Unexpected Guests
by GoldenMiniJ-17
Summary: 1. Sybil and Tom Branson return to Downton Abbey, and Robert Crawley is not happy with their unexpected arrival-or the one that they are about to bring into the house. Will they ever reconcile or will Robert loose more than his daughter? 2. The Bransons return to Ireland and with trouble on every turn they agree to stay out of it. Will they be able to keep the danger at bay or not
1. Chapter 1

**Helloo!**

**_Summary _  
**

**_Sybil and Tom Branson return to Downton Abbey, and Robert Crawley is not happy. With Sybil in a delicate state, 8 months pregnant, will she and her father be able to reconcile in time or will Robert never get to meet his grandchild. Rated T for violence and descriptive gore. _**

**Well, this is different. Usually I write Twilight stories but I also love Downton Abbey and I thought, why not :D**

**This will centre around Sybil and Tom but it will include different characters and their points of view on them.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**May 1921**

"You'll be fine Tom. Please, don't fret." Sybil cooed, taking her husbands hand to stop him shaking.

Tom sighed, his hands fidgeting and itching to yank the door on the train open, jump and run for the hills.

But even that was too risky, even for him.

Besides, Sybil would never forgive him; nor would his in-laws.

They'd think him a joke, well even more than they did now. They have never agreed with Sybil's or his love; just undermined it and criticised. He rested his hand on his wife's, relishing in the comfort.

"I know," he mumbled.

"I hope you don't get like this when we come to see my parents." Sybil murmured softly to her stomach, as there, for the world to see was a protruding bump, encasing and protecting a tiny baby.

Tom smiled, beaming at Sybil's motherly tone. It came so naturally to her, though he knew she was terrified. He reached out, stroking the bump in an adoring fashion.

"Next station Downton, Next station Downton." The conductor announced, walking through the carriages.

"Oh dear Lord," Tom grumbled under his breath, taking a deep, and to him anyway, necessary breath.

"Calm down," Sybil giggled, bringing her hand to her mouth to cover and muffle her incessant laughter.

"Oh yes, this is so very funny, darlin'." Tom playfully chastened his wife. "I'm going to a place where the man of the house would gladly serve my head on a silver platter while he and his butler spit on it,"

"Oh don't be such a martyr, Papa is not that bad." Sybil sighed, shaking her head.

Though she loved living in Dublin and though it pains her to see her husbands discomfort, she had missed Downton. She missed her family and the perpetual calm of the countryside.

The trains whistle wailed, signalling the arrival at the station. Smoke billowed down the sides of the carriages, creating a curtain and with it, making an aura of suspense; the passengers disembarking would be hidden from their greeters.

The door to their 2nd class booth, courtesy of Lady Grantham, opened, Tom stepping out first to help his wife.

"Oh I always hate this part," Sybil mumbled, looking down at the gap between the platform and the carriage.

"You've got hold of my hand haven't you?" Tom said.

"Mmm-Hmmm," Sybil squeaked.

"Then you're not going to fall," he whispered.

She closed her eyes, holding Tom's promise close to her heart and took a step out. She sighed, contented when she safely landed on stable concrete.

"Safe and sound," Tom said, smiling widely. "Silly Mama," he murmured, stroking their unborn child.

She rolled her eyes and took his hand, pulling him towards the 2nd Class luggage pile.

* * *

Cora had been waiting for this for months.

Though no-one in the house, bar from Mrs Hughes, Mrs Pattmore and Anna, who had been sworn to the most binding rule of secrecy, today was going to shock them all.

She had secretly sent her youngest daughter money so she and her husband could come and visit at Downton.

In their library, she put in Sybil's favourite flowers, arousing suspicion from her far too observant daughter Mary.

"Ah, those are Sybil's favourite," She commented, an eyebrow rose in speculation.

"Yes, and they're mine," She smiled, trying to avoid her daughters onslaught of questions.

"Oh really, I thought your favourite flowers were red tulips," Mary mumbled. Her eyebrow never relaxed and a smug smile started to play around her lips.

"Am I not allowed two favourites?" Cora snapped.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Mother. What are you scheming? You would never have these Iris's in the house unless it was her birthday! What is going on, or I swear-"

"Oh, hold your tongue, confounded girl!" Cora growled, turning to face her daughter finally. "Now, listen to me and what I say will never leave this room."

Mary's face fell and she sat on the chaise lounge, breathing heavily.

"I'm listening."

Cora stared at her daughter, wondering if she should reveal her secret.

She could see her daughters patience weaning and she knew that if the perpetual silence between them continued, Mary would storm away; busying herself with her wedding to Matthew and no doubt Mary would feel betrayed by her mother's reluctance.

So, to avoid all shouting and caterwauling, Cora sat in front of her daughter and began.

"Alright, I give in. Sybil and Tom are coming today to stay for a while. I have been writing to them for months and she wants to speak to Papa. The last time we saw them, he wasn't very forthcoming towards them."

She waited for her daughters reply but nothing came. Mary just stared at the floor, trying to make reason of what she had been told.

"Can't…I mean…What?" she stuttered.

Cora waited for her daughter's response. She hoped and prayed that Mary would be excited that her youngest sibling was coming but the look that crossed her face showed that she wasn't.

"Why didn't she inform me? I've been writing to her too," Mary gasped.

"Well, she has something to tell us all and she wanted the visit to be a surprise so for goodness sake, let it be so. Do not give me away," Cora said, harshly.

Mary nodded, an expression of contemplation evident, causing Cora to become wary.

You see, when Mary has these odd and very rare moments of thought, the aftermath of which are usually very insightful. Cora promised Sybil and Tom that she would give nothing away but if Mary asked or said something which happened to be true, she couldn't lie to her.

"What time will they be here?"

And just like that, Cora sighed, relaxing and ridding all thoughts of Mary's nosey and insightful nature…for now.

Cora looked around for a clock, gasping at the time she saw.

"Very soon, any minute now I'd say and I haven't asked Mrs Pattmore to make tea!"

"I'm sure they can do it themselves," Mary muttered snidely, standing to leave.

"Please," Cora begged. "Do not ridicule your sister or Tom. They are proud of the life that they have and we will support them in every way because, mark my words, your father will be dead set against it,"

And with that, mother and daughter parted ways, awaiting the arrival of their guests.

* * *

As Lord Grantham walked around the gardens, Isis at his side, he felt a change in the air.

The chauffer, Mr Young, had gone out and he had no idea why.

He originally thought it was to get Cousin Isobel or his mother but the latter being already at the house and Isobel working mercilessly at the Refugee camp. He frowned, wondering what was going on; everyone had been acting strangely all day!

He recalled the moment when he saw Matthew and Mary walking out of the house, hurrying off somewhere, whispering some secret and shocked faces being the by-product.

He also remembered his wife and middle daughter, Edith being very exuberant at breakfast; like something was coming they had been waited a long time for.

He shrugged it off at the time but now it seemed to matter more than ever.

"Good Afternoon, Milord!" Anna smiled, striding gleefully towards the house.

"Hello, Anna." He smiled back. "What's gotten into everyone today, eh girl?" he asked Isis.

She just barked, running off towards the house. He sighed, mumbling about everyone being so annoying.

Inside, everything was the same, except it wasn't. Maybe he was just paranoid, or just having an off day.

"Afternoon Milord," Thomas said, though his cheerful tone was excessively forced. No change there then.

He saw the other maids, preparing for luncheon and bringing in extra chairs. Had they run out or were they having guests?

"What are you doing?" his mothers high, but harsh voice rang. He smiled, chuckling slightly at the terrified maid holding a vase of flowers.

"Erm…"

"Mama, leave her be. I'm sure Mrs Hughes told her to move them." He sighed and his mother scowled at him.

"Robert, something is going on. Don't you feel it?"

"I do, Mama, but I think they're just circulating the flowers,"

He was right.

It was turning to late spring, early summer. New flowers would be needed soon and to do that everything has to be moved and swapped around so the house seems like a bustling circus.

"No, that's not it." She murmured, waving her hand so to bat away the ludicrous thought. "Trust me Robert. Something is going on, and we're not in on the secret."

Now that got him thinking. He strode off to the library to find his wife, maybe she knew.

* * *

Anna, after changing for the dinner service, decided it was time to prepare for her own and the servant's dinner.

She could hear Mrs Pattmore grumbling about making tea this late and complaining at Daisy for messing something up again. She laughed to herself; Mrs Pattmore could be rather entertaining in her scolding, though she wouldn't dare say it to her face to face.

She smiled when a familiar face walked in, kissing her cheek softly.

"Hello. Did you hear? Tom and Sybil are coming today." Anna announced to Mr Bates or John when they were alone. Sometimes even husband.

"Are they? Well, I'm sure his Lordship will be in a very good mood when I dress him for dinner," he grumbled.

She sighed, smirking at him. Though John wasn't selfish, he would do whatever it takes to avoid his lordships anger and annoyance and with Lady Sybil coming…well he's in for a very rough evening.

"I can see it coming," He sighed exasperated.

"Well, just suck it up," she giggled, placing the knives and forks for the servants dinner.

They were alone and they constantly checked for the likes of Miss O'Brien ear wigging.

No doubt she would go and run her mouth to anyone and everyone. That woman spreads gossip like wild fire and though Anna had to be civil with her, there were moments in Anna's mind when Miss O'Brien deserves a good slap.

"She has every right to visit as does he and anyway, you said you liked Tom,"

"Oh Tom's not a bad lad, not at all, in fact I can't think of anyone better for her but I just wish that-"

"That his lordship would accept it? We all do, trust me. Even Lady Mary's getting sick of it now."

"Hmm. When are they coming?"

"Any minute now. Their train gets in at half past 11."

John nodded, checking the clock. 11:45pm. they would be here soon. He then frowned.

"Anna, dearest, how do you know all this? You haven't been ear wigging have you? You're getting as bad as Miss O'Brien." He smiled jokingly at the last.

He knew his Anna and she was one of the most trusted servants; she wouldn't spy or eavesdrop.

She even turned in Sir Richard Carlisle when he asked her to spy.

After that, she became a confidant to the ladies of the house.

She gasped at the insinuation and playfully smacked him on the arm.

"No, silly, her Ladyship told me, Mrs Hughes and Mrs Pattmore. She said that she had to have some of us know so to make the preparations for their arrival go smoothly…and also to cover for her if his Lordship found out." She said her tone hushed.

"Why are you telling me?" he frowned. Surely Anna shouldn't be telling him.

"Because…you need to be prepared for his Lordships anger." She answered.

He raised and eyebrow, still wary that she had told him this top secret information and the lengths that her ladyship was going, this seemed to be the correct term.

"I hope I won't get you into trouble for telling me this," he mumbled, standing. He stroked her arm slowly, kissing her temple once.

"Oh don't worry, I asked her Ladyship first. She said that she was incredibly stupid for not telling you before." Anna giggled.

She grabbed the simple plates from the cupboard, placing them in their specific places.

It still seemed strange to her, after all this time, to not put a plate out for Tom. He was very entertaining, especially when he and Mr Carson would have debates about the current news.

He never lost one.

"I saw his lordship this morning out walking Isis." Anna smiled, continuing. "He looked very observant."

"Hmm, maybe you're giving too much away."

Ding, Ding, Ding!

A bell rang and echoed through the servant's hall. The front door. They're here.

Anna smiled widely and John pointed his finger at her, telling her to keep her excitement to a minimum, even though he could barely contain his own.

* * *

Tom bounced nervously on his heels when Sybil rang the door bell.

He had taken off his hat, tracing the rim in his hands to keep him occupied and to keep him from looking directly at the person who would answer the door.

"Stop that," Sybil scolded but a wide smile gave him enough evidence to him that she was laughing at him. "Go and get the suitcases if you want to avoid them," she giggled. She read him like a book.

"Good idea," Tom smiled widely and almost ran to the car.

Sybil shook her head and stroked her stomach. She could feel her small baby kicking her, telling her that she was awake. Of course, Sybil doesn't know if it's a girl but Tom is absolutely positive that it will be. She couldn't wait to laugh at him if and when he's wrong.

She rang the doorbell again, to be met by her mother's bright smile.

"Mama!" she cheered. Her mother laughed, thrilled to see her again and hugged as tight as Sybil's bump could let her.

"Oh darling," she gushed, kissing her on the cheek. Sybil swore that she saw tears in her mother's eyes.

She glanced over her mothers shoulder for a moment to see Mary and Matthew, both of them smiling widely. Great, they knew all along.

The smiles faded though when she stepped to the side to greet them.

"Oh my word," Mary gasped. Sybil shrugged, rubbing her stomach.

"You're right there. What on earth have you packed?" Tom asked, dropping Sybil's suitcase to the floor just inside the front door.

"Clothes," she said bluntly, laughing slightly at Tom's surface stupidity. He rolled his eyes.

"And?" he pressed.

Ah. Damn, he clever, she thought.

Sybil, unbeknownst to Tom, had packed some baby clothes in case the baby was born here at Downton; she was only 5 weeks away from her due date.

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"I don't want to know," he mumbled lightly and turned to his beaming mother in law. "Lady Grantham," he greeted.

"Oh don't be silly," she shook her head, opening her arms for an embrace. He took it gladly, knowing that he had worked hard to win her over. He wouldn't do anything to anger her. "Cora, please."

He laughed slightly and said, "It doesn't feel just right to call you that yet but when it does, I assure you I will,"

Cora smiled, admiring his honesty. Though normally she would have been rather peeved as other suitors would have called her Cora without permission; the fact that Tom didn't and rather gracefully turned down the offer, got him into her good books permanently.

"Very well, I do hope that it will be soon," she smiled widely, pulling him inside.

"What's going on?" Violet's voice echoed as she strode, as best she could to the front door.

Both Sybil and Tom groaned inwardly; this isn't what they wanted.

"Sybil? Branson?" she asked, completely shocked at the turn of events. "Well, you must be the guests we are having for dinner,"

"Yes, they are and please Granny, he is no longer our employee; his name is Tom." Mary sighed, still staring out of the corner of her eye at Sybil's stomach.

She was glad that it was quite dark in the doorway and her Granny's eyesight wasn't at its best. A heart attack at this moment wouldn't be the best thing.

"Granny," Sybil smiled slightly.

"Hmm, I'll call him that when it feels comfortable," she murmured, displeased. Her tone soon changed to one of delight when it came to Sybil. "Dear, it is wonderful to see you again. Are you keeping wel…w-what is that?" she gasped, pointing at the protruding bump.

"A baby, Granny," Sybil whispered. "We're having a baby," She took Tom's hand and squeezed it gently.

They heard someone clear their throat but it was just Mr Carson and Thomas bringing the bags. Carson gave Tom a disapproving look and just nodded in greeting. Tom reciprocated the gesture and went to pick up some bags.

"Here let me take that," Tom heard Matthew say.

"Oh no, it's alright, I've got it. It's rather heavy so mind your back there," he said, smiling but feeling rather guilty that the new heir of the estate was trying to carry his suitcase.

"Are you sure?" Matthew mumbled. He tried to lift it but placed it straight back down again. "You're right it is rather heavy. Sybil, what on earth have you got in there?" he laughed slightly, Mary joining in.

Sybil scowled, sticking her tongue out at her husband who was laughing at her.

"It's good to see you again, Sybil. And congratulations," Matthew said warmly. Sybil blushed, he was the first to congratulate the baby.

"You too. And thank you,"

"I still can't believe it; I'm going to be an aunt." Mary smiled widely, trying to keep her composed mask on but Sybil could see straight through it. She could tell that her sister was brooding and she noticed her subconsciously rub her own stomach. Sybil smiled and wrapped her arms around Mary.

"Sis!" she squeaked.

They laughed together and Lady Grantham soon ushered them inside, closing the front door with a loud bang.

Everything was just as she remembered. The large central hall leading off in all different directions, the stairs on the far wall, lined with red carped, trailing up to the bedrooms and her fathers study.

She gulped.

She wanted to gather and ready herself before seeing her father.

So did Tom.

"I see your father didn't come to greet us," Tom whispered in her ear.

"He doesn't know,"

Tom gasped, looking at her very wildly. He couldn't believe it. He shook his head with the shock and tried to make sense of Sybil's reasoning but he just couldn't.

They were already on his taboo list and they were un-talked about in front of him and now they were unexpected, by him, in his own house.

He ran his hands though his hair in exasperation.

"Are you alright, Tom?" Cora asked.

"Lord Grantham doesn't know we're coming?" he whispered.

"No, and he wont know until dinner. But don't worry, I've got it all sorted." Cora smiled. Tom sighed, looking between his wife and his mother in law. He nodded reluctantly but he trusted them. They made their way upstairs to Sybil's old room, being careful and quiet so not to attract his lordships attention.

"Anna will come and get you when we're ready," Cora smiled as the others left.

"Where's Edith?" Sybil asked.

"She's out but she's coming straight up here to greet you both, don't worry." Cora sighed. "It really is good to see you again, and congratulations."

She placed her palm on Sybil's stomach and kissed her daughters forehead. With that, she left.

Tom exhaled, flopping on the bed.

"Well, that wasn't so bad,"

"Humph, that's because they're the people that like us,"

"Hey, it's over half of your family. That's better than I thought,"

Sybil giggled, sitting next to her husband to kiss him.

* * *

'Finally, dinner,' his lordship thought.

He had been quite famished since 4pm and he could, at last confront his family about to aura of joy about the house today.

At around noon he heard some commotion going on at the front door but he didn't bother himself with it. He heard his wife and mother there so, whoever it was that visited was in good hands.

Bates was brushing his jacket, precise and perfectly as always.

"Thank you," he smiled.

He couldn't help but notice the extra energy in his long time friend John, maybe it was because he and Anna could live and work in peace together, all the other Mrs Bates debacle over and done with.

"You look very joyful Bates. Is there something I do not know?" he asked slyly.

"I don't know what you mean, Milord," John retorted, smiling. Robert laughed.

Of course, it was none of his business.

"Oh nothing, the whole house just seems to have had an extra boost of happiness and I don't really understand why,"

John nodded, his face straight so to hide the secret.

"Maybe everyone's just happy because there is no ill in the world; after the war and everything else. We have been under a black cloud for a while sir,"

Robert nodded, buckling his cufflinks and adjusting his sleeves.

"Ah maybe your right. It doesn't feel rather strange to have no sense of sadness or anger over the house,"

Robert smiled, knowing that his lordships words held such deep irony. If only he knew…well he would soon.

"Thank you Bates," Robert smiled and walked down to the dining room.

He met Cora at the top of the stairs, taking her arm. She was glowing, he had never seen her smile so much. He spied Mary, Matthew and Edith; they too were smiling.

Humph, maybe Bates was right, he pondered and no more thoughts of a secret glee entered his mind.

"How are you tonight, my dear?" he asked his wife.

She nodded and then suddenly had a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh I only have one earring in. I must go and get the other one, be back in a moment." She said, and rushed back to run up the stairs.

Robert shrugged and entered the dining room to see that the table was a little larger than usual.

He shook his head, dismissing his silly thoughts. He wouldn't let them poison the rest of the household's good mood.

He took his seat at the top of the table, smiling at his daughters and soon to be son in law. He frowned at the phrase; the other one he had he wasn't as proud of. He still curses his youngest daughter for leaving and till swears that she will return, crying and begging for forgiveness.

They were whispering indistinctly to one another. It wasn't anything new to him; he usually wasn't involved in their conversations unless they asked him a question or his opinion on something.

He counted the place settings to notice that there was two more.

"Carson?" he whispered, calling him over. "Do we have guests?"

"I assume so, sir. Her ladyship requested two more place settings for tonight," He mumbled.

Robert nodded and smiled as his wife entered the room.

She took her seat on his right, opposite his mother.

He noticed that the seat next to Cora was vacant, as was the seat next in between Matthew and his mother.

"So, dear, who are our guests?" he asked. "Carson tells me that we are expecting some."

He saw his mother shift uncomfortably in her seat and eye Cora. Her look was accusing; 'it's your fault' the spoke.

Cora sighed and looked to the door. Everyone else went quiet and smiled widely.

"Are you coming in or not?" She said, beckoning with her hand.

Robert frowned. Who on earth was here?

He stood as they entered his jaw slacked in shock. She smiled weakly at him, her hands skimming over her far too large belly. He on the other hand stood proud, far too proud for his liking. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side.

"Lord Grantham," he greeted, no hint of a smile in his voice or on his face.

Robert looked around at his family; they were all smiling slightly at Sybil and Tom, Lady Grantham especially. Anger flooded through his veins and his adrenaline spiked.

How dare they not tell him that they were coming!

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed angrily. Sybil and Tom shifted uncomfortably.

"Robert!" Cora snapped, standing up. "They are our family you will not talk to them like that!"

"Be quiet Cora! This is an outrage! Who invited you?"

"Papa please-" Mary tried.

"Shut up!" He roared. "Well?"

Sybil bowed her head and covered her face with one hand, her shoulders jumping slightly. Tom notice and kissed her cheek, bring her face up to meet his with a finger. Her eyes were red and tears were streaming down them.

Tom felt a flash of anger for Lord Grantham for upsetting his daughter, especially in the state that she is in.

"You were right. This was a bad idea." She whispered and ran out of the dining room, sobbing.

"Sybil," Tom called. He looked at Lord Grantham once, glaring and ran after her.

The whole room was silent.

Cora, Mary and Edith all stood at once, running after Tom and Sybil.

"You will apologise," Cora hissed and left, slamming the door.

Robert slumped in his seat, his anger slowly diminishing.

He could sense his mother's disapproval and Matthew's discomfort.

"That…was unforgivable," Violet said. He heard her chair softly scrape the floor and the door to the drawing room closed.

"Cousin Robert," Matthew murmured. He got up and left too. The door to the hall way closed and he was left alone with Carson.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a long time and all that could be heard were Sybil's sobs.

"May I offer some advice Milord?" Carson offered warily. Robert looked up at him, stood by his side. He gestured to the seat next to him and Carson sat, sighing heavily before speaking.

"It has been almost a year and a half sir and she is very close to having a child. I suggest that you accept them or else that child will be someone that you heard about through the people around you. He or she will be a distant dream that you will never see."

Robert looked at his butler, his oldest companion, shocked.

"Are you saying that they wouldn't allow me to see my grandchild?" he spoke quietly. Carson nodded.

"Yes Milord. That's exactly what I'm saying. So please, be careful or else there will be no children visiting here any time soon," He said gravely. "If that's all Milord, I will tell Mrs Pattmore to make some tea for the ladies."

Robert nodded, waving his hand in dismissal.

He could feel the tears welling in his eyes for so many different reasons; Firstly for being angry at Sybil and Tom, guilty for screaming at them and for upsetting Sybil in her delicate state and disappointment in himself for angering his entire family.

He gathered himself and went to find Sybil and Tom.

* * *

**A/N: Did you like it? I hope it was good. I rarely do 3rd person stories but I thought I'd give it a go. **

**I hope it was a good representation of the characters. This all takes place after the Christmas special. **

**Please tell me what you think :)**

**Cheerio!**

**Jess xxxxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Helloo!**

**OH...MY...GOD! **

**I have had a load of positive responses for this story so I'm carrying on. I think its the best response I've ever had for a first chapter. :D**

**Thank you all again for reviewing and subscribing! I usually thank personally but if you don't log in I can't do it! Just so you know, I am very grateful.**

**Here's the next part...Enjoy! :D**

**PS I got the date wrong .. its May 1920, not 1921. I'm a bit daft you see :P**

* * *

**May 1920**

Matthew was not a man who disliked the notion of comfort.

For the majority of his life he has had to buy his own way; make a living for himself. As a lawyer and with the crime rates in Manchester rather high he was in no end of work and money. Of course at points his work would disintegrate, making life rather hard but he had always saved enough money to live through the rough patches.

In financial situations, he was always comfortable.

However in social situations, his comfort and confidence was sorely incompetent. He struggled to begin conversations and when he was involved in one that held no interest to him whatsoever, well, his grace dwindled.

So when he found himself left alone with his angered cousin in the dining room after Cousin Sybil ran out crying, his discontent began to rise. He tried to think of something to say, to comfort or to berate him but he couldn't.

_I'm not a man of many words,_ he would tell you.

So, instead, he decided to follow his fiancée to find out what had happened.

"Cousin Robert," he excused himself, leaving towards the main hall.

He could hear her crying, Mary and Tom trying endlessly to console her. He stood by Edith and Cousin Cora, discreetly nodding to them in welcome.

"Try to calm down, love," Tom murmured, though the anger rang clear in Matthews mind.

He noticed that Sybil was clutching her side; maybe it was from the shock of her tears or worse, from pain. He frowned, taking one step closer, touching her hidden arm.

Sybil snapped her head up, taking her hand away abruptly. She tried to hide a wince but it didn't miss his observant gaze.

"Are you alright, Sybil? Maybe you should lie down," he whispered.

Tom slowly exchanged glances between the two of them.

He knew, of course, that there was no flame between them but if there was a secret Sybil was hiding from him, he had the right to know.

"Sybil?" he questioned, raising his eyebrow in worry.

"Just…h-hurts al-l-little." She managed to choke out.

It was true, she could feel the baby kicking around and there was a dull ache that would throb every now and again. She told herself that it was nothing but Tom disagreed.

She remembered the day when he took her to the hospital and the doctor said that it was just small contractions; it made sense to her as she was so close to giving birth but no, Tom thought it was more serious.

Tom placed a hand on the bump, rubbing it slightly. He felt his baby kick his hand and he smiled.

"Well, at least you're alright," he murmured, loud enough for only Sybil to hear clearly. She smiled and more tears ran down her cheeks. "He is not worth your tears, Sybil," Tom murmured, wiping them away.

"I know," she mumbled. "But he makes me so angry. It has been such a long time since we left I thought he'd be over it by now! I mean, you all are!" Her voice began to rise; it was loud enough that her father could probably hear her. Good, she wanted him to hear. She wanted him to know how stupid he was acting and that he was only embarrassing himself, no one else.

"Come on, now," Tom soothed, helping her to stand. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day, dear. Our girl's getting restless."

"You'll rue the day, if it's a boy!" Sybil smiled.

"-if it's a boy," Tom mimicked, making Sybil giggle. He couldn't deny Sybil her victory if it was a boy.

"Be careful, dear," Cora cooed, taking her other hand. "Don't strain yourself."

Cora savoured the tiny contact between her and her daughter.

As a small child Sybil yearned to be held and she usually was, by the nanny. She stroked her daughter's top of hand once because all too quickly, she was being taken up the stairs, her husbands arm around her waist, protecting her.

Though Cora didn't like to admit it, she could see that Sybil didn't need her anymore…but when it came to her father, Sybil always needed her. Cora smiled sweetly as they walked slowly up the stairs into the darkness.

"Poor Sybil," Matthew sighed.

"It's their own fault," Mary chastened, shaking her head.

Cora felt her face go red. It had absolutely nothing to do with them.

"Mary! How dare you say something so spiteful? Do you actually approve of their marriage? Or are you putting on a façade to keep them happy?" Cora spat, storming off to the dining room to deal with her husband's abrupt anger.

That is why she missed Sybil so.

She was the only child that hadn't inherited their father's short rage. She ignored the murmurs and mumblings from Mary and Matthew behind her, bursting though the doors only to find Carson.

"Carson, where is Lord Grantham?" she said, trying to coat her tone with niceties but nothing got past him.

"He's in the library Milady. No doubt hiding from his own punishment," he chuckled.

She smiled at his humour and slowly and calmly walked up to the library, giving her husband a false sense of security at her serenity.

* * *

"Anna, Lady Mary is retiring, please go and get her changed," Mrs Hughes ordered.

"Yes, Mrs Hughes," Anna acquiesced. She sighed, a bit of sorrow filling her heart.

She had heard about the incident in the dining room concerning Sybil and Lord Grantham from Thomas, of course he couldn't keep that information to himself.

She could understand why his lordship would be reluctant but to completely dismiss it and shout and scream at her…to Anna, this wasn't very gentlemanly of him, not at all.

She walked through the girl's corridor, passing Tom and Sybil's room where she heard her still snuffling and soft murmurs. She made a note to visit them on her way back.

She knocked on Mary's door three times, holding her night dress and waiting politely.

"Come in, Anna," Mary chuckled.

Anna smiled. After all this time she knew when Anna came to call.

"You know you don't need to knock, I know it's you coming," Mary smiled. She was sat at her vanity, taking off all of her jewellery.

"Sorry, Milady but I do not know if you have anyone in here." Anna smiled back.

She liked Lady Mary, though not as much as Lady Sybil.

Lady Sybil was someone she could relate to whereas Lady Mary was someone she could look up to…in some ways.

After Mr Pamuk's visit her faith in her began to retract. Though she did not judge Lady Mary, she didn't sympathise. She would never show it though as Mary knew that Anna didn't feel sorry for her.

"I've brought up a fresh gown as your other one was taken down with the other clothing this morning." She said, laying down the gown on her bed. She walked over to take out Lady Mary's intricate hairstyle. She knew that Mary hated pin headaches so she made quick work of it.

"Did you hear about Sybil?" Mary asked, even though she knew the answer.

"I did. I think everyone's heard, Milady," Anna mumbled. A sad face flickered across Lady Mary's features just for a moment, but she dismissed them, it was not ladylike of her to show her feelings. Anna frowned, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"I know that you're sad for Sybil, I am. In fact, I am distraught. Papa shouldn't have shouted at her like that, especially in the state that she is in. I'm sure that Branson will have a thing or two to say about it." Mary vented. She could sense the anger coming through her veins; her father's anger, the lethal object that cause her upset.

"I'm sure her ladyship will do as well. I heard that she was positively livid." Anna said trying to sound nonchalant though she was thoroughly entertained by her ladyships rage.

"She was still snuffling a bit when I went past her room. I could hear Tom in th-"

"He's in her room?" Mary asked, turning around, shocked. Mary did support her sister in marrying the once chauffer but she thought that Sybil would at least keep her dignity and common sense.

"Oh, I'm sure it was innocent, Milady. He is her husband after all. He can't be in the best of shapes with Lady Sybil being pregnant." She defended. She had gone and stuck her head in a bucket now.

"True, but he should be careful. If Papa found out, he'd blow his top," she smiled.

"I won't tell if you won't," Anna mumbled and they laughed together. After Anna had finished dressing Lady Mary for bed, she paid a visit to the Branson's.

"Tom? La-Sybil?" she called.

"Come in Anna," She heard Sybil whimper.

Anna frowned at the sight she saw. Sybil was laid on the bed, rubbing her unborn babe softly and for comfort. She had red rings around her eyes and her hair was scraggly against her tear-soaked pillow.

Tom was no where to be seen.

"Don't be sad, Milady," Anna whispered. "Where is Mr Branson?"

Sybil laughed once, though it never reached her eyes.

"Call me Mrs Branson if anything Anna and Tom went to bed. He thought it would be polite and proper to sleep in a separate room. I wish he wasn't so thoughtful." She mumbled the last, snuggling into her pillow a bit more.

Anna knew the pain of separation well.

Though Tom was on the other side of the house and within touching distance the pain still lingers.

Even now it saddens Anna a little not to be with John.

She didn't know what to do. She knew that she should comfort her but she didn't know how. She hesitated for a moment before sitting on the bed next to her, drying her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Why don't I go and get him? I won't tell and I'll wake him early in the morning so to take him back. You obviously want him close…Mrs Branson." she offered, giggling slightly at her new title.

Sybil smiled too, rubbing her stomach again.

She was proud of the name, though she could never live up to it. Roisin, Tom's mother, was the original Mrs Branson and was a strong woman, in her will and her strength. Nothing fazes her, apart from her children getting ill; she has a thick skin.

Sybil noticed that trait in all the other Mrs Branson's, her brother in law's wives, she'd met. She hoped that one day too she'd acquire that sort of strength.

"Yes please," she nodded and another tear ran onto the pillow.

"Very well," Anna nodded and went to the room at the end of the corridor to retrieve Tom.

* * *

"How dare you speak to me so? In all our years of marriage Cora, I have never heard you speak so rashly and out of manner."

Cora took a deep breath, she was getting nowhere. She had confronted her husband on his behaviour towards their youngest daughter and son in law.

"Well maybe it's high time someone does speak to you like this Robert. They are our family!"

Robert snorted. He had drunk a few glasses of scotch, his mind felt a little woozy. He slumped down on the chair, gazing into the fire.

"Family. He stole her away." He mumbled.

"Stole? Oh, he never stole her Robert. She was very willing to go as I last remember. In fact, the child that is almost ready to make him or herself present in this horrid world is proof of her will." She spat, smacking her hand against his desk.

Her anger flooded into her head and her fatigue from the day was closing in on her too. She took a few deep breaths in these rare moments of silence to calm herself; a heart attack at this moment would not be appropriate or helpful.

"Please, Robert, just go and apologise," she pleaded.

She had already apologised for not telling him but that was all she was guilty for. Her husband was still silent in his chair, gazing into the fire and sometimes lifting his glass to observe it.

She sighed, sitting on the sofa next to him.

"For goodness sake, Robert, I am begging you, end this. Please just accept that they are husband and wife. I know that you won't be alone; Mary still doesn't really approve but she puts on a face for them. I know it's not right but please, just to keep the peace of the house, go and apologise,"

Robert listened to her plea, digesting the words slowly. The alcohol spun the whole room, making the situation worsen. He sighed, exasperated. He snapped his head t his wife, his eyes ablaze with indignation.

"Very well," he grumbled.

He couldn't argue with her any longer. He felt his patience waning with the hours and he would need to retire soon so not to get a very throbbing headache tomorrow.

As he neared the door he heard the tail end of a conversation.

Reason was telling him to turn around and walk away but the drug rushing around his blood switched reason off.

He heard a door shut on the inside of a room.

"Bath's run for you," he heard Branson murmur. Springs strained; he sat on the bed.

"Thank you," his daughter stuttered.

He could tell that she had been crying mercilessly. He bowed his head in shame but still kept his ears pricked up.

"I still don't understand," she mumbled. "He's never been so angry. Not when he found out I went to Ripon and hit my head. Not when I eloped. Never like that. Do you remember Ripon?"

Tom laughed, but it was strained. Robert heard shuffling on the other side of the door and footsteps. He gasped, hoping not to be caught eavesdropping. More springs strained, whoever it was that stood had returned to the bed.

"Yes I do, I've never been more terrified in all my life." Tom sighed. There was silence for a moment. "I thought you were going to die,"

"Silly," Sybil retorted. "It was only a little bump,"

"A little bump? You were bleeding and unconscious. I almost lost my job,"

Sybil laughed again, only to sniffle and hide more tears.

"Oh, please don't cry," Tom sighed. "He's not worth it. You know what? I feel like going down there right now and giving him a piece of my mind!"

Feet slammed on the floor and wide strides headed towards the door.

"No, Tom please, I don't want to anger him any more. He'll apologise when he's ready."

Tom sighed exasperated.

"He won't if no one stands up to him," he said, a little louder. "Though, according to Anna, her ladyship was chomping him a little, along with the Dowager Countess before hand."

"See, there you go, two people have stood up to him, he'll come around now, please, help me undress."

With that, Lord Grantham senses came to and he knocked on the door. He didn't want to think of his ex employee seeing his daughter unclothed.

Of course they weren't happy about it.

"Who on earth is that?" Tom murmured. Tom gasped a little at the person he met. He said nothing, just nodded and held the door a little wider. Sybil was leant against the bed post, her dress rather loose for his liking.

"Sybil, Branson-"

"If you're going to call him that then you may as well just leave as you have learnt nothing from mothers and Granny's yelling," Sybil snapped, storming off into her adjoining bathroom.

Robert stood there shocked at his daughter's outburst. He was about to bang on the door, letting his anger get the best of him but he reined it in.

"You heard the disagreement?" Robert murmured to Tom. Tom chuckled sarcastically, shutting the door.

"Please, the whole house heard it,"

Tom had been civil up until now with his lordship. He did it for Sybil's sake; she wanted to keep him in her life and he too just to keep her bridges intact but he couldn't carry on the façade any longer if his lordship wouldn't try. He took a deep breath and looked Robert straight in the eye.

"I'm going to be very straight with you. I have, ever since the day I met her, strived to deserve your daughters love. Even now, with our child on the way, I still thank my luck every night that by some miracle she loves me and the only thing that we want in return is that you accept us. You don't even have to mean it, just be civil for her sake. All she has done is cry and the pain in her stomach has gotten worse for it-"

"Pain?"

Robert stared wide eyed at the closed bathroom door. Sybil was in pain? How did he not know this?

"Yes, sometimes when she is highly emotional she gets quite sharp pains and I'm surprised that after today, we still have a baby!" he shouted.

He didn't mean to but he needed to get it out.

At home, he would go for a walk or to his brothers house two streets away but he had nowhere to go here, just the village which will be barren.

The bathroom door opened, Sybil eyeing them both.

"Stop shouting," she whispered. "I'm very tired now please, Papa, say what you have to say and go. I want to bathe and go to bed. Tom, stay, you don't have to sleep in the separate room. I'm sure you won't mind, will you, Papa?"

Robert closed his eyes, wishing and willing the utter nightmare of his daughter marrying the chauffer away. He wanted to pinch himself, waking up to a perfect world.

When his eyes reopened, the scene was still there.

"I just wanted to apologise for my actions this afternoon and for causing you pain, my dear. That's all." Robert sighed, slightly cowering under Tom's gaze.

He was very enraged.

His fists were clenched and his jaw set in a hard line.

"And, no, I don't mind, much. But if anything happens-"

"Oh nothing will, don't you trust us?" Sybil countered.

Her stance and expression was similar to Tom's. Her jaw was taught, set in a line and her gaze was belittling. Robert was unnerved, he could see his daughter adapting to the ways of her in laws.

Brutish and rough.

He said nothing and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"I hate him," Sybil hissed and began sobbing again.

"How can you have anymore tears?" Tom whispered. "Come, I think its time we slept."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this one! **

**Tom's mothers name is pronounced Ro-sheen, or the English alternative, Rosaleen. I made it up, of course, her name isn't mention.**

**Please tell me what you think :D**

**Cheerio!**

**Jess xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello!**

**Thank you, again to everyone who has reviewed or subscribed! I do thank individually and if I have missed you out I'm really sorry! I'll do better next time! :P**

**Here's the next part for you! It's actually in two but if I carried on writing I'd be putting the whole story into one chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Morning.

A fresh start.

Sybil fluttered her eyes at the line of sunshine peaking through the gap in her curtains. She stretched, her little child kicking furiously inside her. She rubbed her stomach to sooth it but the baby just kept going.

She sighed. Why so early in the morning do you wake me?

"Oh stop it, I know you're hungry. So am I," She grumbled to it.

She looked over at Tom, sleeping soundly next to her. His jaw was slack and his hair was all mussed, out of place and drooping over his eyes. She smiled slightly, wondering if it tickled his face.

She moved the hair from his face so to get a better look at him.

He looked so peaceful asleep, so young. Sybil sometimes woke before him and she would wonder if he was lying to her about his age. She stroked his hair in different hair styles, pulling it this way, pushing it that. She pulled it straight, noticing that it was a tad long.

Needs cutting.

It went on her mental list.

"Will you leave my hair alone?" he murmured, his eyes slowly opening. Damn him, he was awake. "And why were you scolding our child? It's not her fault."

"Rue the day," she whispered and Tom rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know. It may be a boy…but I can dream," he smiled, reaching up to rub her stomach. She laughed internally at how high her stomach protruded. It looked like someone had stuffed a pillow under the covers. The baby kicked again, making Tom jump. He laughed into his pillow, making the baby kick more.

"He likes the sound of your laugh," she whispered.

She turned to her side, facing him. They were within breathing distance of each other.

Tom brought his hand up and down her back, soft rubbing in some places that he knew cause Sybil pain. She hummed, relishing in the closeness. She shut her eyes again, the baby momentarily stunned by its fathers touch.

Good, it'd been giving her grief all night.

"Love you little one. Stop giving your Mama such grief, she loves you." Tom whispered.

Sybil's heart melted every time he spoke to their child. She knew that he had looked after some of his younger sibling and his nieces and nephews as babies and small children so she knew that he knew how to handle them. She was envious. Being the youngest, she knew nothing of children and how they act.

"She loves your Pa too," Sybil whispered. Tom smiled widely and kissed her forehead.

She felt a dull spark run through her body, making her smile. It wasn't of wanton desire; her child had temporarily taken that away from her much to their discretion, but of pure happiness.

She giggled a little as Tom ran a trail of kisses down her nose and across her cheeks.

"Good morning," Sybil smiled and snuggled closer into his chest and, as if on cue, the baby kicked.

"And good morning to you too," Tom murmured. Sybil gazed at the adoring look on Toms face as he slowly stroked a circular pattern over her belly. The fluttering in her stomach started again and they laughed.

"He likes making himself known; he doesn't like to be ignored." he whispered.

Sybil chuckled, listening to the rhythm of Tom's heart. She could hear the slight murmur; there was an extra strange sound in his soothing heartbeat. It sounded sort of like the rushing of a river.

It was also very fast.

Too fast for Sybil's liking.

They almost adjusted to the comfort of their embrace when a knock came at the door.

"Sybil?"

* * *

Morning.

One day closer.

Lady Mary groaned as the heat of the morning sun slowly warmed her face to an uncomfortable level. She opened her eyes slightly, to adjust to it when a blinding light shot across her face. She winced; throwing her arms in front of her to rid the offending light.

She opened her eyes fully, seeing that it was her engagement ring giving off the light.

She looked at it fondly, imagining what her wedding would be like.

Preparations were already being made and final adjustments finished; it was only 2 weeks away.

She was about to drop back onto her soft pillow when she heard faint laughter coming from the next room. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh be quiet." She mumbled.

Mary would never admit it but jealousy was her worst trait. If someone was happier then she, jealousy would spike. If someone bragged about having a better life than she, jealousy!

She was never rid of it and hearing her younger sister's laughter next door was no exception. Not that she didn't like her or Tom, well like is a bit of an overstatement, she just didn't like the fact that everyone was fawning over her.

Even Matthew.

She noticed yesterday when Sybil was sat crying over Papa shouting at her, Matthew, of all people, knelt down and tried to comfort her.

It was a case of being tad insecure on her part but she still didn't like it.

She shook away the terrible thoughts of her intruding jealousy and thought of her wedding.

She had her wedding dress all ready; it was hanging on her dresser.

She smiled at the pure white bag and jumped up, rather giddily for her, and went to look at her dress. She had done this many a time and she never tired of it. She couldn't wait for Matthew to see it.

In fact, she couldn't wait to see Matthew.

They had agreed to spend the two weeks before their wedding apart. He didn't even come for dinner so she had to sit next to Tom, the joy.

But he was coming today.

She tolerated Tom, which was as far as their relationship went. She would put on a smile and treat him with respect but she knew that he saw through her façade; maybe he was doing the same to her.

They didn't part on great terms.

At Tom and Sybil's wedding, Sybil was very upset that Mama, Granny and Papa didn't come.

Let's just say Mary made a rather harsh comment, setting off Tom's anger and their new relationship to a very rough start.

She wondered for a moment if Tom would make a statement at her and Matthews wedding for revenge. She wouldn't put it past him.

"Lady Mary?" Anna called, knocking on her door.

* * *

Morning

A time when dreams and nightmares disappear.

Lord Grantham woke with a start.

He dreamt that his youngest was killed in a riot in Ireland. So cold…and the chauffer was nowhere to be seen.

He was glad that that dream was just a dream as he was living in a nightmare. She and the revolutionary Irishman for a husband were here and their child would soon be born and he would have lost her forever.

Without a child and just the two of them, Robert had the chance of waking her up from her delusional daydream.

But now a child is soon to arrive there was no going back.

He groaned as the heat in his room was too much. He turned, watching his wife's sleeping face.

He recalled the time when he had nearly lost her. That would have been too much to bear.

He stroked her cheek in goodbye and rose, sneaking back into his room next door.

Back inside his own room, he could prepare to take out his frustrations on his defiant daughter.

His thoughts stuck back to last night and how Sybil behaved towards him.

He also sincerely hoped that Tom was wise and didn't take her invitation to sleep in her room.

He decided that he would go before breakfast, so to catch him if he did stay the night with her. He had dressed quickly, with the help of Bates.

"Are you well this morning Bates?" He asked.

"Very well thank you Milord. Recovering."

"Ahh,"

Good news came to Downton last month.

Bates had been cleared of all his charges, setting him free Anna was overjoyed as was everyone else but the scars from the horrid ordeal were still there and for some they would throb.

"Have you seen Sybil this morning?" he asked.

John shrugged, "No Milord. And I haven't seen Mr Branson either if that was your next question, sir,"

Lord Grantham chuckled; that was his next question.

"Excellent. Thank you Bates, if you'll excuse me," he smiled and left to find Sybil.

* * *

Robert reached the door to hear low laughter. He frowned, knocking quickly.

He was still there!

"Sybil?" He called brusquely.

He didn't wait for an invite; he just walked in on the unsuspecting couple.

As he made his presence known to them, Tom jumped, sitting up in the bed, glaring at him. Robert glared back, his eyes shifting between the back of his daughters head and the face of her enraged husband.

"What on earth is going on here?" Robert snapped, making Sybil turn and gasp.

"Papa, I told you, Tom was staying here and will be sleeping this room for the rest of our visit." She murmured her eyes full of conviction.

He still scanned and analysed the both of them, when he realised that she was still dressed as was he…he hoped.

"I don't care what you said, I run this house and you know that he was forbidden to sleep in here with you,"

"Excuse me, your lordship, but I am her husband. I think I have the right!" Tom snapped standing.

Robert strode towards him, his fist twitching.

Though gentlemen never really cause an uproar, he had been ready and waiting to punch that smug Irishman in the face for a long time.

"Stop it!" Cora snapped from the door. She witnessed her husband advance on their son in law in front of Sybil; not one of his best ideas and it wasn't one that she wanted to see go ahead.

"Papa!" Sybil cried, trying hopelessly to get out of the bed. "How dare you!"

"Careful darling, too much stress isn't good at this time," Cora whispered hurriedly before taking her husband by the arm and dragging him from the room. Robert snatched his arm from Cora's grip and his face from her judgemental gaze. Not a word was exchanged and they parted ways, probably not seeing each other until that night at dinner.

* * *

Old Lady Grantham had a visitor that morning.

Her daughter in law Cora.

She had told her of the outrage Robert caused this morning and she was not impressed.

Though she did not like Tom, she still respected his views and rights as a husband. From what she had heard he was a good one, which made him higher up in her friends list…though it wouldn't make any difference, most of her friends she didn't like.

That afternoon, she journeyed to Downton so to confront her son on his behaviour.

"The Dowager Countess Milord," Carson announced, leaving soon after closing the door behind her.

She gave her son a scrutinising look.

She wasn't angry, just disappointed. He was looking out the window, drinking a small glass of whiskey.

"Hello Mama," he said, his tone flat and dead. She sighed exasperated sitting down on the small loveseat, banging her walking stick on the wooden floor to get her sons attention.

"I heard about your inexcusable behaviour this morning." She accused.

"This is my house Mama and he-"

"Quiet Robert. You cannot storm into her bedroom shouting the house down! That is very…well, you're almost being as bad as _him."_

A knock came at the door before he could reply.

Carson entered, a grave and almost guilty look on his face.

"I came to tell you Milord that luncheon is ready." Carson said, nodding to Violet politely. She had admired Carson for a long time; his manners and his demeanour were perfect, how a servant should behave.

"Thank you Carson," Robert nodded.

A stretched silence spanned between them; only looks being given. Robert avoided the gaze of his mother and she did the exact opposite, she watched him like a hawk, studying every one of his movements and expressions.

"I guess we had better go. I'm sure Branson will have a lot to say to you and I'm sure he won't mind saying it in front of the family."

* * *

Sybil didn't appear for luncheon much to Violet's disappointment.

Tom showed some time later, going straight to Matthew to talk. No one said a word to him, just watched his movements which set his teeth on edge. He hated being judged and the irony was so clear; he was in a room filled with judgemental people.

"Where's Sybil?" Matthew asked him, turning the head of Lord Grantham.

"She's lying down." He murmured loud enough for everyone to hear.

He shifted his gaze to Lord Grantham before turning back to Matthew, continuing their conversation.

"Ohh dear, well can we blame her?" Violet chastened. "All that stress from this morning must have taken it out of her, poor girl."

Tom coughed slyly to hide hid smile. He never suspected that the Dowager Countess would be on their side in this one instance.

Tom hoped for one fleeting moment that none of the sisters, well Mary, would appear as their presence was not made so far…and he thought himself to be late.

s he was listening to Matthew chatter about being a solicitor and his different opinions and views on the world, Tom weighed up how much they had in common, which was quite a lot.

They were both swayed and swept along by politics, though for different reasons and they believed in equality. Tom had always thought high of Matthew, even when he was the chauffer and he soon realised that he was starting to rather like him.

He could be a good friend or ally someday.

"How are things in Ireland? I've read some terrible things," Matthew asked, his voice full of concern.

Tom shook his head, "Not good I'm afraid. It's getting worse; in fact your English papers are dampening the flame of the fight. In truth, I don't think it's safe anymore."

Matthew widened his eyes at Tom's comment. He had always thought that he would fight for Ireland's freedom; maybe Sybil and the baby have changed his prospects.

"How so? Will you move out of Ireland?"

"It's getting rather violent. Now the rebels are attacking for no reason, no offence but they're getting as bad as the soldiers over there," Tom murmured, too low for Lord Grantham to hear…I'm sure he would strong disagree with that remark.

Matthew, to Tom's surprise, nodded and whispered,

"I quite agree. There's control and then there's just pogroms."

"Hmm, that's the problem. I don't want Sybil caught up in all of this…it won't end well, for either of us," he muttered solemnly.

Matthew studied the Irishman's face for a long time and he felt a pang of empathy for the man.

He knew what it felt like to loose a loved one; the pain from the tearing of the strands which shaped your romantic heart.

In rare cases they heal, like when Mary agreed to marry him…again but he couldn't see that for Tom; it was Sybil or a lifetime of sadness.

He patted his shoulder and Tom chuckled,

"Oh I'm being daft now," He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the unneeded tears.

"No, you're being very wise. Most men wouldn't think twice for their wives safety and just be martyrs but not you. That's something admirable and if Robert can't see that then he's rather delusional." Matthew said, whispering the last. They laughed a little, pondering over Lord Grantham's absurd behaviour.

"Thank you." Tom nodded.

* * *

Mary entered the drawing room to an unwelcome sight.

Matthew just being in the company of Tom wasn't her idea of gracious. It was bad enough that he had to eat with them when little over a year ago he was far in his cottage, far from the family.

She looked around the room for her little sister but she was nowhere to be found and neither was her mother.

"Papa," she greeted.

He smiled, giving her a small glass of brandy.

"Thank you. Where's Sybil?"

"Lying down," He said, his answer rather brusque.

Mary frowned, giving a fleeting look to Branson, who had heard her fathers reply. His jaw was taught and he exhaled in a huff, listening to Matthew again.

Mary looked at her father, rolling her eyes.

He nodded in agreement to her annoyance.

They were on a mutual understanding; neither of them wanted Tom or Sybil here but for very different reasons. Mary decided that now it was time to convert the conversation to her, her selfish behaviour coming through.

"Matthew? Do we have any more decorations coming?" She smiled, sweetly but not enough to fool everyone.

Matthew stuttered, quite uncomfortable that he was stood in the middle of a feud between his fiancée and his soon to be brother in law.

"Erm, yes, more came today and they're setting them up at the church."

"Ohh! Is this about the wedding?" Violet cooed, thus forcing the attention onto Mary. For once in his life, Tom was glad for Mary's ability to turn focus. He had had enough attention on him for a long time.

Idle chatter echoed through the room, until Cora walked through the door, holding a handkerchief.

* * *

Cora rarely cried, her American blood made sure of that but listening to her daughter laid upstairs in bed describing her arrogant fathers hatred towards her made her weep.

Sybil told her of her worries.

_I'm worried that he'll hate the baby, Mama even when it's not its fault!_

Another tears threatened to drop and she quickly wiping it away, ignoring her husbands almost greeting.

"Matthew, Tom." She smiled.

Robert stepped back, realising that she was still angry at him. Mary asked no questions and so continued her talk about the wedding.

"Hello," They both murmured.

"How is she?" Tom asked.

She sniffed a little, hopelessly trying to hide her sadness but it was no use.

"Should you be down for luncheon, Cora?" Matthew asked, frowning.

Tom mentally cursed himself; he knew that she was already upset about something Sybil and her discussed; why bring it up again?

"No, I'm fine and that reminds me, Tom, Sybil asked if you could go up after luncheon. She wants to talk to you," She smiled, but the pain was there. It wasn't good.

Tom nodded and they were called in.

As much as his stomach was protesting, he walked out of the room, heading straight for his wife.

* * *

"Where did Tom go?" Edith asked.

"Upstairs to Sybil I think. He's terribly worried about her."

"Why?" Violet asked.

"I think because the baby is almost here. I don't really blame him. It's good that he's taking such wonderful care of her. Isn't that right, Robert?"

He said nothing, he glared at her and silence fell on the table. Everyone glanced uneasy at one another, looking for someone, anyone, to break the silence. Robert finally broke it, his cutlery clattering on his plate.

"No, In fact I don't think it's good. How do we know if that's a true representation of his feelings? How do we know that he takes care of her and-"

"Oh enough Robert!" Cora snapped. "Enough! If you have nothing nice to say about them, then don't!"

And nothing else was said; luncheon was a silent affair.

* * *

Sybil wept quietly after her mother shut the door.

She could feel the stress getting to her and it was affecting her health.

Her mother had brought her some food, small things; not a full meal like she was going to have. But Sybil couldn't stomach any of it. The thought of eating made her feel sick and it didn't feel right not eating with Tom.

She had asked her mother to request Tom come up after his meal; they have a lot to talk about.

She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to get some semblance of sleep when an insistent knock came at the door.

"Sybil, darling? Can I come in?" Tom's voice rang from outside the door.

She frowned.

What is he doing here? She was sure that luncheon wasn't over just yet; her mother had only just left.

"Tom? What-?"

He let himself in, knowing that she would try to come to the door.

As she suspected, he was dressed for lunch and the low rumbling that she heard as he neared the bed, showed that he had had nothing to eat.

"I couldn't wait until after dinner. Your mother was crying when she came down. I knew something was wrong,"

He took her hand, stroking it gently, giving it little kisses every now and again. Sybil smiled, the fist time she had since that morning when they were so rudely interrupted.

She studied his face a little closer; he had little bits of red around his eyes; had he been crying?

"Tom," she whispered, lifting up his head. "Have you been crying?"

He sighed, he couldn't lie.

"Yes, but only a little. I need to talk to you about something," he said, a grave tone covering his voice.

She frowned, squeezing his hand reassuringly. She could see the pain and worry etched into his eyes and she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Tell me," she whispered, cupping his face gently. She could tell that he needed to shave, it was all bristly and rough but still sexy. He pressed his face into her hand, mumbling and purring a little at her touch.

She giggled, kissing him chastely.

"Not long," she whispered.

"I know," he replied, a little stunned. "But not here. Your father already hates me, I don't want him to find that…well," He laughed, imagining his lordships face if he ever found them in bed together.

This morning was funny enough now thinking about it.

Sybil giggled, raising her eyebrows. It had been a while since they talked like this and she'd missed it intently. She fluttered her eyes as he gently held her hand, kissing the palm of it slowly and surely, he trailed his kissed up her arm, finally resting on her lips.

"Mmmm," she moaned, smiling onto his lips. She grabbed handfuls of his hair, keeping him where he was.

"I….really need…to…mmmm….tell you…something," Tom whispered through the kisses. He managed to gather his self control for a moment to grab her shoulder, parting them for a moment.

"Sorry, I would carry on but it's important," he chuckled, a little breathless.

She rolled her eyes, smirking at his reaction and patted the space next to her for him to sit. He chuckled, the mattress dipping lower at the extra weight and creaking.

Sybil tucked herself into his side, relishing in the comfort of his warmth. Fluttering began in her stomach again and Tom laughed, stroking it gently.

"What did you want to talk about?"

He sighed, frowning.

"I-I think we should leave Ireland."

She gasped, sitting up to look at his face. His head was dipped a little in shame but his eyes were sincere and terrified.

"Are the troubles getting worse?" she whispered.

He nodded, sniffing a little. She could see how hard he was taking it, her poor darling. He pulled out a letter, giving it to her.

After reading it, there were tears in her eyes.

Apparently, there was an attack on their flat, his mother says and because Tom and Sybil were at Downton, no-one was hurt as no-one came by the flat so their efforts, whoever they were, were fruitless. The landlord rang Mrs Branson to tell her everything. All of their belongings were still there, which was strange.

But not to Tom.

He knew that if they didn't take your possessions, they weren't after _them_. It meant that they were after _you_.

"What does it mean?" Sybil whispered.

"It's not safe anymore. We need to move out of Dublin, maybe even out of Ireland."

Sybil read it over and over until the words scarred themselves on her mind.

_Your stubborn, as is Sybil, but I know you're not idiots. It's not safe, no matter how much you think you have better judgement. Stay away from Dublin._

"You want to move away?" she whispered, scanning his face for any confliction.

"Honestly? No, I don't. I don't want to leave my family and I want to be there for the fight but you are much more important than all that. I'd go anywhere you'd want me to."

Sybil looked at his face. His eyes were sad and desperate. The pain was so evident that she couldn't have him be like this for the rest of his life.

"Then, we'll stay. No, I'm sorry Tom but you've stay away from your home for too long and anyway, I like Dublin. We'll just move to a different part. Maybe the outskirts?"

Tom would have interrupted and protested about going back but Sybil's plan seemed to appeal to him more. Live on the outskirts, maybe in a town, away from all the troubles but still close enough to see his family.

If it meant safety and security, then it was worth a go.

* * *

**A/N: There you go :D**

**Poor Sybil, it all getting to her now. You'll have the next part up soon!**

**Please tell me what you think!**

**Cheerio :)**

**Jess xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Helllooo!**

**I know, I know, it has been ages! Colleges fault. Too many exams :(**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and/or subscribed! :D **

**Here's the next part for you all**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sybil awoke at the insistent knock on the door. Tom next to her was sleeping also. How long had they been here?

"Sybil? Are you getting dressed for dinner?" a voice called.

Dinner? She tried to get up without waking Tom or making too much noise, but it failed supremely.

"Sybil. What are you doing?" Tom mumbled sleepily. His eyes opened, squinting at the evening sun shining on them.

"Its dinner already, I have to go down, I'm starving!" she gasped. She flopped back onto the bed, sighing and giving in. "And I'm trying to get up, if you must know."

Tom groaned and then chuckled, stretching a little before helping Sybil get up. He was surprised that she could get up as far as she did. His laugh, however, ceased as Sybil glared at him, holding his hand in a death grip.

"Don't laugh at me," she hissed, making his eye go wide. Sometimes, she could be truly scary.

"Sorry, but let me help you. I don't think the little one will appreciate you crushing her."

Though what he said was meant to be funny, Sybil recently didn't like his humour. She gasped, tears welling in her eyes. Tom stuttered, trying to apologise.

"Really?" she said sarcasm and hurt running through it. "Well, I don't appreciate it sitting on my bladder making me want to pee every 5 minutes!"

Her voice rose louder and louder until Tom was shrinking away from her. She began to cry, irrational completely, but she couldn't help it.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Are you alright, Sybil?" the voice outside the door asked. It was Mrs Hughes.

She entered to see tears and a struggling husband. She rolled her eyes and walked over to them,

"Now, I know you're being silly. You hardly ever cry, dear," she soothed, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.

"I know, I am, sorry Tom," she whimpered. Sybil ran, well, tottered over to him, wrapping her arms around him as much as their baby would let them.

"I'm sorry too; obviously my joke wasn't that funny. Don't cry," he whispered. He was about to trace and stroke her lips with his own when a bemused cough came from the other end of the room.

"I think it's best if I left," Mrs Hughes joked, raising her eyebrows. "I may not be worldly but I don't want to see that,"

They broke apart, laughing and blushing slightly. Usually they were never so forward or so open with their frivolous love but when the magnetic pull starts, it takes a third party to interrupt them and break them apart.

"Sorry," Sybil murmured. "And to answer your question, yes, I am. I am far beyond famished!"

Mrs Hughes smiled and said, "Well, I'll tell Mrs Patmore to hold dinner then as you are joining us."

The couple nodded in thanks and Mrs Hughes left, silently pleading to God or anyone who was listening that this evening would go without a hitch or disagreement.

* * *

Mrs Hughes' prayers, sadly, were not answered. Lord Grantham expressed, well, forced his anger upon Tom as he noticed that his youngest looked pale and slightly thinner; the evidence of her tiny spell of malnutrition. Of course, Sybil took full responsibility, saying that she was too tired from the baby to eat and after that comment, shouting and fury spiked, sending everything into turmoil.

* * *

As Lady Grantham was dressed for bed, Miss O'Brien noticed that there was something amiss with her. Her ladyship's manner was brusque, enraged and downright annoyed.

"Is something the matter, milady?" she asked, frowning in concern. Cora looked at her friend, well she believed her to be, and smiled.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you O'Brien," Cora lied. She thought that her lady's maid had bought the lie, but nothing got past her. It was in O'Brien's nature to sniff out secrets.

"Very well, milady, I was only concerned because you didn't seem quite yourself, with Lady Sybil and Mr Branson returning."

Cora sighed, her true emotions becoming clear on her face. She had to tell someone of her troubles; she couldn't tell her daughters as it would get back to their father. She turned around so to face O'Brien; she wanted to gage her expression.

"Oh, O'Brien, it's just awful. Robert just won't listen and I am slowly tiring of it. Poor Sybil is about to give birth and he's putting her through all of this and not to mention Mr Branson who has been nothing but wonderful to her. In fact, I'm surprised that he hasn't snapped yet."

O'Brien shook her head slightly at his lordships awful behaviour, though deep inside she found it rather interesting, something to share with the others later.

"Do you think he will, Milady?" She pried.

"I'm not sure, but if he did I wouldn't be surprised. In fact, he deserves it but the fact that no-one will pay him no attention is punishment enough, for now," Cora smiled devilishly.

She too would pay her husband no attention by staying in her room, locking the one that lead to her husbands. For the first time in many years, Lord and Lady Grantham broke the illusion. They actually slept in separate rooms.

* * *

Robert tried the door again but it was still locked. He sighed, giving up.

"Still locked, Milord?" Bates asked. Though he would never admit it, he didn't feel sorry for his lordship. Sybil and Tom came with good intentions and his lordship shouted them down, leaving them as shattered and unnerving as when they left. He could see the Branson's forever stepping on eggshells around Lord Grantham…and he could see their impending fatigue at his distance and anger.

"Yes, I'm afraid." Robert muttered. He was about to get into bed when a knock came at the door.

"I'll leave you, have a good night, Milord," Bates said. He was greeted by a rather sad face on the other side of his lordships door. "Lady Mary,"

"Good evening, Bates," Mary mumbled, trying her hardest to smile. Bates nodded in understanding and left, heading upstairs to retire himself.

"Are you alright dear?" Robert asked his eldest. She was conflicted; she was frowning but shaking her head in delirium.

"No Papa, I'm not," Mary whispered. Robert became more concerned for his daughters wellbeing; she was shaking violently. He paced over to her, helping her sit down as gently as he could.

"Tell me," he whispered.

For the first time, Mary looked up at her father and met his gaze. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"I'm scared-no it's more than that. I am terrified. This time tomorrow I will be wed and it scares me,"

Robert frowned. Mary had been on the cusp of marriage before but it had never affected her in this way. He watched as tears began to fall and suddenly, he felt uncomfortable. He knew nothing of soothing away sorrows of his daughters; Cora usually did that and she was in no fit mood to speak to him. Then it occurred to him; why did Mary come to him?

He took his daughters hand, patting it gently; something to show his trying affection. Mary smiled, tears still rolling from her flushed cheeks, patting his hand in return.

"Mary, why pray tell, have you come to me? Surely your mother would be-"

"No Papa," Mary interrupted. "She would turn this into something it isn't, probably thinking that I don't wish to marry him and die an old maid. You... understand. Anyhow, she is cooing over Sybil; she isn't well,"

Lord Grantham was taken aback a moment, for more than one reason. The first being that Mary couldn't talk to her mother anymore, maybe a lack of trust or comradeship. The last, being that his youngest was unwell, and in her delicate state, this worried him.

"Sybil is unwell?" Robert asked, though this being the wrong thing to say.

His daughter glared at him, her gaze full of hate and betrayal. For one moment, he thought he saw a flicker of jealousy cross her features.

"Oh, stow all talk of her!" She shouted. "Sybil and her damn child are all everyone has been talking about! Even in your anger you still talk about her! For once it would be marvellous for you to-"

But Mary cut herself off as cries of anguish could be heard, echoing through the halls. Mary tore her eyes towards the door and back to her father who was contemplating everything that had been said, rather, bellowed at him. She realised at once that her sister had heard everything that had been said about her, causing Mary to instantly regret her actions and her harsh words.

"Go and apologise at once," Robert said, indignation covering his voice, making Mary flinch. She nodded, but she was frozen in her place.

"Go!" Robert snapped, effectively making Mary relax from her position, leaving the room in haste.

* * *

Matthew was startled to see his fiancée Mary shaking him awake, tears streaming from her face. He knew, more then most, that Mary rarely, if never, cried and the fact that she was, well, it's bad.

"Mary? What's-?"

"Oh Matthew, I am an awful sister, spiteful and cruel."

Matthew frowned. Though he would never say, he knew that Mary wasn't the best of sisters but she was better than most. There was obvious tension between the three of them, always competing, well not so much anymore but the tension was there.

"Why? Mary, tell me," he mumbled, sitting up, though his muscles strained from being woken so early.

"I was with Papa and I don't know, I told him that Sybil was ill and suddenly that was all he cared about-!"

"Well, be fair Mary, she is pregnant and about to give birth, everyone is a little concerned, even you. But that still doesn't explain why you are a bad sister."

Mary sighed, composing herself before speaking again.

"I began to rant, oh you know me when I an enraged. I have no mind to think before I speak. I said some things and she heard. She's crying now, can't you hear?"

Matthew listened intently and he could just about hear some tearful sobs. He saw the clear resentment and pain in his love's eyes and in the rare and very brief moments they now have together, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, kissing her head.

"Now, I'm sure, even with all her pent up emotions, Sybil will forgive you," he murmured. "Tom was saying that she is fed up, the baby should be born soon and she's been getting very uncomfortable."

Mary hummed in agreement. She kissed his shoulder in thanks, knowing that either a kiss on the cheek or anywhere else would be rather inappropriate the day before their wedding.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Matthew asked, knowing that Mary would either crumble or say more things that she would regret. She would need his support.

"Yes please, that would be wonderful."

Together they journeyed to the Branson's room, stroking and teasing each others hands without actually holding them. The soft brushes made them smile, well grin like Cheshire cats at the though that soon they would be able to show their love to the world, as Sybil and Tom do; the longing stares, the small chaste kisses here and there. They couldn't wait.

As they found the door, they could hear tears and soothing words.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it," Tom murmured.

"Then why did she say it? She's right though," Sybil sobbed a little.

"How is she right, darling?" her mother asked. "Is it suddenly wrong for us to worry for yours and the baby's health because Mary's a little jealous? I think not,"

Matthew flinched slightly at Lady Grantham's words; though soft, they were very harsh. At that moment, he took her hand, stroking the top of it.

Mary sighed, knocking; she couldn't eavesdrop anymore. She knocked on the bedroom door, for it to be opened by a disapproving Anna. She eradicated the expression from her face immediately but Mary nodded; everyone had a right to be disapproving of her behaviour.

"Sybil? Sister? Are you-?"

"Please, Mary, don't do that." Sybil snapped. Mary gasped, her eyes widening at her sister abrupt yet expected tone. "I know that you do not mean the tone in which you speak. Tell me, what more would you have said to Papa?"

Mary was about to answer when Tom stood, biting his fist so not to speak. Then he growled,

"Don't answer that. I know that she won't want to hear it."

"What do you know?" Sybil shouted then, but instantly regretting it as her child kicked furiously from its rude awakening.

Tom groaned, quickly kneeling to hold her hand. She snatched it away, glaring at him.

"I want to know," she panted through laboured breaths.

Mary too knelt down next to her to comfort but Sybil flinched from her also.

"Tell me," Sybil hissed, relaxing slightly into her many pilled up pillows. The kicking had obviously passed as Sybil sighed loudly.

"I-I-It doesn't matter Sybil, for goodness sake. I was just being… being stupidly jealous. You know me, it's near a special day for me and I want all attention on me but of course, your first child will be born soon. You also need the attention, if not more. I'm sorry."

Everyone was silent at these words. Matthew blinked largely, shocked that Mary apologised…to anyone.

"I wasn't expecting that," Tom mumbled to Lady Grantham, making her smirk. Sybil sniffled and smiled, taking her sisters hand.

"Oh I'm just being silly," she murmured, forgiving Mary's infraction. "How are you doing?"

Mary thought it over; how was she? No one had really asked her how she was feeling about the wedding or anything else; Mary's mask was made from the finest of composure.

"Oh, I'm fine," Mary smiled. "But that's not important, the big question is, will you still be bridesmaid, well, is there another word for it? Anyhow, will you? even if you cant walk?" Mary laughed a little at the end. Sybil was very large in her late state.

Sybil giggled too, "Of course, I wouldn't miss it. Even if baby disagrees."

* * *

**June 1920**

As morning broke, the sun shone brightly on the Yorkshire countryside; a perfect day for a wedding. All the residents of the house had risen with the dawn, bustling to prepare for the wedding, all except Lady Mary. She stayed in her bed, gazing at the white bag that was hanging from her armoire, wondering what the day would bring. Just as she began to accustom to the moments peace, knocking and hurried voices sounded at her door.

Edith, her mother, Anna and her granny all bustled into the room, smiling widely. She wondered where Sybil was; she was still asleep and Tom said not to wake her until it was necessary. Of course, why on Earth would Sybil listen to such a ridiculous notion.

Mary stood, helping her almost bursting sister into the room, letting her rest on her bed, despite her protests.

"Mary, I can stand!" Sybil begged. "Please, I've been lying down for the last three!"

"No, Mrs Branson, it's a crime enough that you're here without Tom knowing, we don't want to stretch you too far," Anna said. "We'd never hear the end of it, well, I wouldn't."

The women giggled slightly as Sybil huffed, crossing her arms across her body as best she could.

"So, are you ready? We only have a few hours," Edith smiled. Mary stroked the dress bag, contemplating.

"In truth, I cannot wait," Mary beamed. She took out the dress, making all the girls smile and laugh with glee.

"Now, now, girls, calm down," Cora said, calming them all. "We don't want Mary over exerting herself. Anna, please help Sybil dress whilst we help Mary."

"But Mama-" Sybil protested.

"No Sybil, if you are going to stay awake then you must have someone help you. I'm not going to have your husband telling us off because you're being stubborn."

Sybil sighed, throwing her arms to her sides. Her sisters smirked, trying to contain their giggles at their younger sisters temper tantrum.

"Come along then, I think it's time we started." Violet said, pointing her stick at Mary.

* * *

Tom watched as Matthew kept playing and pulling at his waistcoat. Sure, it wasn't that comfortable on him but at least he could resist the temptation of trying to rearrange it.

"What're doing?" Tom frowned, shaking his head a little.

Matthew looked at him in the mirror, smiling at Tom's confused face. Matthew liked Tom, he was a good friend; he was happy to call him brother, which, when soon he walks down the aisle, they would be.

"It's uncomfortable. I don't know if I've put it on right,"

Tom laughed heartily, "You're out of practise! Oh dear," He smacked him on the shoulder, still chuckling and asking Thomas to come in and help him.

"Stop laughing at me," Matthew whined, taking off his suit jacket. "It's very unnerving,"

"Apologises, sir," Tom mocked, stressing the word sir in a sarcastic manor. "How're you feeling anyway? Nervous?"

Matthew turned to let Thomas help him, grabbing the small drink of scotch to calm his nerves.

"Very." Matthew murmured. He winced at the sharp warmth of the alcohol, making Tom smirk.

"It's strong, be careful." He said. "And don't drink too much of it. The last thing we want is an inebriated groom."

They laughed, even Thomas cracked a smile.

"Yes, that would be terrible. I don't think Mary or Lady Grantham would ever forgive me,"

"Aye," Tom murmured. "Or his lordship,"

Matthew nodded, "Yes most definitely. I think he'll probably disown me, well, not disown, take away my right,"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Tom asked, taking the scotch away from Matthew who needed both of his hands to adjust his cufflinks and tie.

Matthew thought of that for a moment. Would being a lawyer, just a lawyer, satisfy him and Mary? Yes, they would have some money as no doubt Mary would demand it, they would have a house as Matthew still owns his in Manchester. It wouldn't be so bad but Mary would object, after all, she turned him down when he wasn't rich, why would she stay with him if he suddenly lost it all?

"Maybe, though Mary..."

"Ah yes, Lady Mary wouldn't like it if you were poor, god forbid she be like me!" Tom replied.

Matthew scoffed, "You're not poor, you're making about as much as I did when I was working in Manchester, trust me, that's a very comfortable sum to live on,"

Tom smiled,

"For just one person, I've got two more to look after,"

Matthew frowned at the change in situation. Of course, he only lived alone but three people…money would be tight.

"But what about Sybil? I thought she too had a job, as a nurse?"

Tom shook his head, "Not for a while. Something about the baby, I don't know. And anyway, when the child gets older, she'll only be on half the time and half the pay."

Matthew sighed, putting final adjustments to his suit.

"Everything will be alright," He said, taking their scotch glasses to be put away. "Besides, I heard that you were up for promotion, you never know,"

He found their hats, brushing them free from dust and the two men walked out, ready and waiting to go to the church.

* * *

Sybil managed to walk the small distance from the car to the church without help. She was rather proud.

"Sybil!" someone shouted.

At that moment she saw her husband running toward her, grabbing her arm.

"What are you doing? Come and sit down," Tom gasped.

"Tom I'm fine, please don't," Sybil whined as Tom marched her over to the nearest bench. Small chuckles and sultry stares came from some of Sybil's old friends in London and she sighed. She couldn't wait for people, especially women, even random women, to stop fawning over her overprotective husband.

"What's the matter?" Tom asked, sitting next to her.

"They keep staring at you and I don't like it,"

Tom chuckled, putting his arm around her, kissing her temple.

"Its not funny," she snapped, making Tom chuckle just a little but harder.

"Darlin' you do not need to worry. They seem like they are not worth anyone's breath."

Sybil shook her head and wrinkled her nose. She never really liked her so called friends whom see saw once or twice a year and when they were together, they were never nice to each other.

"Besides, no-one looks finer than you, so they have no chance, my dear."

Sybil blushed, looking down at her blue dress which was huge compared to some of her old dresses. It was nothing like the bridesmaids dresses, well, Edith's dress; it was much simpler.

"Oh, you're just saying that to make me feel better…and I shall take the bait this one time, thank you" She smiled, making Tom laugh.

"How's Matthew doing?" She asked, wanting to change the subject.

"He's nervous, which is pretty normal."

"Were you nervous? At our wedding?"

"On some level. I mean I didn't want to mess up the vows, giving your father every excuse then to hate me but nervous about being your husband? Never," He answered, playing with a stray piece of hair.

"Oh dear, well, I'm glad your murmuring heart didn't give out due to the extra worry," she teased, poking his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, humming at the comfort she felt there. Sybil, though try as she may, could feel her eyes drooping against her will, making her sit up.

"Tired?" Tom asked, an eyebrow rose.

He knew she could see it in his eyes. He knew that she was awake when she should have been sleeping this morning.

"A little, but nothing major." She whispered.

"I told you to sleep didn't I?" Tom sighed, placing her head gently back on his shoulder.

A car pulled up to the church, revealing Lord and Lady Grantham, making it everyone's cue to come inside as Mary would be arriving soon. Tom pulled Sybil from the bench towards the door, trying to avoid Lord Grantham as Tom couldn't be dealing with his petty rage today.

"Oh Sybil!" Lady Grantham called, walking over with her husband.

"Oh dear," Tom mumbled. Sybil kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand in support and as a warning. Tom punching her father would not the best idea, and they would never reconcile if that was the case.

Lady Grantham hugged her daughter, smiling fondly at Tom. His lordship however didn't even look at them. He just listened and looked around desperately for any distraction.

"Sybil, did you manage to find Mary's something blue,"

"I did, yes, it was in her wardrobe. I gave it to her before I left,"

"Good," She smiled. "She was positively batty over it, I'm glad you found it. The day, in her eyes, would have been a disaster!"

They all laughed quietly, his lordship never cracking his façade.

"Papa?" Sybil asked. "Are you well?"

Lord Grantham reluctantly faced his daughter, who sighed exasperated.

She was sick of his sour moods and his seething hate towards Tom. But this time it was different. The reluctance in his eyes and manor was slowly changing towards her.

"No you are not it seems, come on Tom, I need to sit down," she seethed, pulling him away.

* * *

Lord Grantham wanted to call after his daughter, to ask her what was wrong but she was too far away and her husband had a protective arm around her so she would never turn no matter how loudly she called.

"What-?"

Cora said nothing; she just scowled and walked away, again misinterpreting his behaviour. What had caught his attention were Bates and Thomas, there was something wrong, some kind of heated argument that he wasn't aware of. He could see palms twitching and fists clenching and when Sybil had called him, he didn't want to look away so to miss any danger that may occur. When he turned his head, she and Tom stormed away into the church.

"Cora!" Robert called, but there was no reply. She too strode into the church, ignoring him.

He waited alone outside for Mary, his thoughts swimming around his head. He ha had a little alcohol before the wedding to calm him, but instead it made him more edgy. He recalled every moment he had either witnessed or engaged with Sybil. They were all bad, undoubtedly bad. Every time he saw her, he saw red; he had noticed a change in her, she was brusquer, she had a new kind of confidence, she refused to hide behind someone.

Though he admired it, he severely despised it because she was slowly turning into th chauffer. His manor was slowly becoming hers and that was not the daughter he recognised.

"Papa?" a voice floated through his mind, waking him from his trance. There was Mary stood in front of him, and in truth, looking more beautiful and more feminine than he had ever seen her.

A pang of pain hit his stomach; he never knew what Sybil looked like on her wedding day.

"Are you well? You're not going to run out on me are you?" she giggled. The loud music from the church sounded and Robert shook his head, taking his daughters hand, leading her into the church, preparing to give her away.

He cherished it, as he never got this moment with his youngest child…and it was his entire fault.

* * *

**A/N: Wedding jitters all around! and more friction between Cora and Robert :(**

**I'll update muich sooner this time! Sorry again :(**

**Tell me what you think!**

**Jess xxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Helloo!**

**Look at that! Finished college now for a short holiday and I have another chapter up in two days!**

**Thank you again for all the reviews and subscriptions...If I have missed you in thanking you personally then I'm sorry. I couldn't reply to all of them as you didn't sign in! And I really wanted to reply to them :D**

**Here's the next part!**

* * *

"What a beautiful wedding!" The Dowager Countess exulted as she and Sybil walked out of the church. Matthew and Mary were further ahead, heading towards a large car together, hand in hand. The Dowager watched and sighed happily, _thank goodness_ she thought; those two have been through enough.

She turned to her youngest granddaughter, who had an expression of…, sadness? Worry? It was very hard to distinguish.

"Are you alright, dear?" She asked quietly.

Sybil nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Oh, dear, sweetheart, why the tears? Come, you don't want to be adding extra stress or else baby wont like it and it will make it worse for you trust me,"

Sybil laughed once, her tears falling. She didn't know why, they just did.

"I don't know, I just…look at them," she gestured towards her mother and father who were smiling and laughing.

"What? What's wrong with them?"

"I wanted that, to see them smile when I married but Papa…" she trailed off, not wanting to burst out in full streams of tears. That would be very inappropriate considering it was Mary's day.

"I know, dear, but, your father, he…he's rather- oh I don't know what's wrong with him dear. Its' been a long time now, for heavens sake, it's almost your first wedding anniversary! I really do believe that he should be fine with this situation but alas-"

"He never will be, will he? Not with me, not with Tom, not with-" she cut off, rubbing her stomach, slowly sitting on the bench outside the church. Her grandmother sighed, piteous at her grandchild's unnecessary grief.

She sat down next to her and patted her knee.

"Listen, Sybil dear, until Edith marries, you and Branson are the only ones who will give him grandchildren. He may have is disagreements with him but with your children, well he has no reason to,"

Sybil nodded and then smiled, "You'll never call him Tom will you?" Sybil giggled a little, laughing at her grandmother's face.

"I'm old. I'm set in my ways so please don't try to change them," Violet said bluntly.

Sybil laughed again, her tears drying.

"Ah, speak of the devil," her grandmother murmured.

Tom was slowly walking over to the ladies, smiling as he caught his wife's gaze.

"You ready to move?" he asked, stroking her face gently. He nodded in hello to the Dowager, who smiled politely back.

"Not yet, you go on, I'm just going to stay and chat with Granny for a moment,"

"I won't keep her long, I promise," Violet joked, making Sybil smile.

"Alright then, but you be careful please," he begged. Sybil nodded, waving her hand in dismissal to his obsessive worrying. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, nodding again in courtesy for her grandmother and left, jogging slightly to catch up with Bates and Anna.

* * *

"Hello Tom," Anna smiled as Tom ran up next to John. He greeted them both smiling widely.

"Hello young man," John smiled. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine thank you, conscious that I'm worrying too much, you know," He looked back toward Sybil, who was still talking to her grandmother.

John laughed once, "Yeah, I understand, she may get tired of it."

"I don't think that you can ever worry too much," Anna cut in. "She is having a baby after all and besides, if she doesn't like your worrying, then she's just daft,"

John chuckled a little and Tom smiled. He was about to speak when they past Thomas and O'Brien, discussing and scheming as always.

"What was going on before with you and Thomas? I saw a bit of tension there," he said to Bates.

Bates sighed and Anna looked away. Tom apologised quietly he knew that he had hit a nerve. Bates shook his head

"It's alright; don't worry about it, a lot of people noticed." He acquiesced. "He was just saying some rather hurtful things about Lady Mary and Matthew. About having children,"

Tom sighed, completely enraged at Thomas. He knew that Matthew and Mary wouldn't be able to have children, through no fault of his own and it is not something to joke or comment about. Tom felt like it was in his right mind to go up to him and punch him across his smug face…thank goodness Mary and Matthew didn't hear whatever he said.

"Hey," Anna called, snapping Tom out of his anger. "Don't you think about hurting him, he's not worth it."

"One day it will be," John murmured.

"Aye,"

"But today is not that day, lets just forget about him. It's supposed to be a happy day and we're muddying it by talking of him." Anna stopped them from conspiring Thomas' possible murder.

Both the men reluctantly nodded, quickening their pace toward the house. They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, until loud laughter sounded behind them. They all turned to look and Tom sighed, shaking his head. They were some of Sybil's old friends.

Anna noticed his annoyance, frowning,

"Who are they?"

"Sybil's old friends. They keep…staring at me and it's rather unnerving and annoying!" he sighed.

Anna giggled, John shushing her. Tom looked at her in disbelief of her reaction…and very confused.

"What?"

"Looks like Lady Sybil isn't the only one who interested in you," she poked, smiling widely.

Tom gulped slightly, looking back at the giggling horde.

"Oh dear Lord," he whispered.

John and Anna laughed at his scared expression, quickening their pace further to avoid any unpleasant scenes.

* * *

The family, slowly but surely, returned to the house ready for a meal. Most of the guests left after the wedding; Sybil's friends being some of them to Tom's relief. Everyone had gone upstairs to change for the large family dinner. He found his black suit, finally managing to get out of his uncomfortable wedding suit.

"Are you alright?" Sybil asked, changed and now waiting for him.

"Fine, much better actually. That suit was uncomfortable as hell." He muttered. She smiled, laughing slightly.

"Language like that wont be acceptable when the baby comes you know. I don't want his first word to be a profanity."

"Well, let's keep him or her away from my brother for the first few years," he joked, smiling widely.

His brother, David, was a man of few words, most of them being profanities. He had never been as worldly as Tom; he had never set foot outside of Dublin but he was interested in the fight for Ireland. He remembered when he and his wife came to visit at his Ma's and they were discussing the English Army and how close they were to their homes. Things were going well until he blurted out a four letter word that would make his mother blush, and her language wasn't at its best sometimes.

Sybil laughed at his joke, knowing her brother in laws behaviour.

"Have you received any letter from your mother yet?" she asked, knowing how anxious he was. The last one they received was the day after they arrived 2 weeks ago and a letter from Ireland to Downton only took 5-7days. No wonder he was anxious.

"No not yet, but I'm hoping that maybe later in the day one will arrive," he smiled.

Sybil was about to answer when a pain hit her.

"Ohh!" she gasped, sitting back down on the bed. Tom snapped his head to her, running over to her half dressed to see what was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked, touching her stomach. A few deep breaths later and Sybil relaxed, frowning deeply.

"No, no, I'm fine, it's passed. God that hurt!" she exclaimed.

"Careful, don't say that around my Ma. You may be her daughter in law but I don't think she'd resist smacking you round the ear for blasphemy," he laughed.

Sybil rolled her eyes and nodded slowly standing. She had been chastened a few times by Mrs Branson; all in good favour of course, not like when she scolds Tom or her other children.

"Are you well to go downstairs?" he asked.

She nodded, completely recovered. He took her arm rather than her hand, slowly walking down to meet the others.

* * *

Not everyone was down for dinner just yet; Mary and Lady Grantham were not present. Sybil took a seat straight away, still feeling the tiniest aftershocks from the pain she had before. She patted her forehead; she could feel herself beginning to flush from some kind of heat; it certainly wasn't the room as she was far from the fire.

"Are you well, Sybil?" Edith asked.

"I'm rather hot and I had a terrible pain before. I've never had one like it. I don't know what it is."

Edith frowned, rather concerned for her younger sister. As children, Edith rarely got the chance to care for and look after Sybil as Mary took the lead lording over the both of them, being seen in the eyes of their parents as the responsible one. Edith was just the middle sister; older than one but never old enough to be heard. But now they were older, they were equalled, all looking after one another, age didn't seem to matter.

"Have some water, and take some deep breaths, you do look a little flustered." Edith replied.

She walked to the other side of the room, pouring a small glass of water for her, which was gladly taken; Sybil gulped it down, gasping after she'd finished.

"Steady!" Edith smiled, "It might make you feel worse,"

People began applauding as Mary walked in, Matthew bringing her into his embrace to kiss chastely.

But Sybil ignored it.

She was focusing on the pain that started again. She kept silent but it didn't go unnoticed. Tom walked over to her, taking the glass from her hand and rub her stomach. Edith rubbed her sisters hunched shoulders, telling her to breathe deeply.

"Are you sure you're well enough?" Tom asked, much more seriously and looking intently at her.

Then the pain slowly faded, as did the slight flushing of her cheeks and the heat she felt.

"Its gone," she sighed.

"Maybe," Edith started, taking a breath, speaking much lower, "Maybe it's the baby,"

Both of them snapped their heads to her; they looked worried and angry all at the same time.

People then began to move; time for dinner. Tom was reluctant to move her but she resisted his worrying, complaining that she was starving.

* * *

"Let's all raise a glass to Mary and Matthew, who, in my opinion, have finally reconciled and found each other. Congratulations and good luck to you both," Lord Grantham finished his speech as everyone around the table smiled fondly at the newlyweds who were sat in the head spots at the table. A low murmur of cheers and clinking glasses surrounded the room as dinner was being placed in front of them.

Lord Grantham ordered they have a set meal making it easier on Mrs Patmore. She had to cook a whole wedding party alone; cooking one more meal with a variety of dishes would be too much.

There was silence at the table whilst people ate until Carson entered the room, carrying an envelope.

"A letter for you, Sybil," he said.

Tom stopped, looking at her expectantly but frowning in confusion.

"Thank you," she said, rather uncomfortably. She was out of practise, having everything done for her. She had gotten used to her life in Ireland and loved it; life at Downton seemed like a dream.

"I think its for you," she said to Tom, giving it to him.

"Sorry," he murmured, Sybil smiling fondly.

Mary and Matthew smiled too, trying not to laugh at the awkward timing of the letter.

He opened it, reading intently; it was from his mother. He frowned as the writing was scrawled and looked like it was written in a hurry.

_Tom, _

_I'm sorry that I have delayed this letter and I'm glad that Sybil is well but I bring grave news from home. I am crying now as I write but it's your brother. He was shot just two days ago in the street by the English Army. We though that he would live but…well, he didn't darling. _

_Don't be angry as I know you will be. I don't know the reason why he was shot but please, Sybil in her state does not need your anger. Vent it by all means but not near her. _

_I cannot believe it still even now and I wish I were there with you to share the pain._

_I'll see you both when you get home,_

_Your grieving mother_

He just stared at the letter, his face falling neutral. His brother was shot. Dead. He sat back, not looking at anything in particular. He could hear voices but they were distorted and muzzy.

"Tom? What is it?"

"Tom?"

"Is he alright?"

He ignored the voices and strode from the room, several shocked gasps coming from behind him. He began pacing his mind rushing and running away with his imagination.

Why him, why NOW!

He crumpled the letter slightly as he clenched his fists, bringing them to his eyes, trying to stop the angry tears that were going to fall. In the end, he gave up, sitting on the bottom step of the large stair case, tears streaming down his face. He rested his arms on his knees, resting his head on them so his face was hidden.

He sobbed, trying not to make a sound. He didn't want anyone to see him cry, not even Sybil who has seen him at his weakest points.

"Tom?" a soft voice asked, a hand touching his shoulder. His head shot up to be met with a very concerned Cora, who was joined by Matthew and Carson.

"What's the matter?" she asked, sitting next to him.

He rubbed his face, wiping away the tears, coughing slightly to clear his throat.

"My brother," he stuttered. "He was…erm…was shot and he's…well…"

He placed his head back in his hands, more tears falling as his eyes stung. Lady Grantham rubbed his back, Matthew murmuring something to Carson. He heard footsteps leaving; Carson must have left.

"Matthew, tell Sybil that Tom won't be coming back in for a while; he received some very bad news and is very upset,"

More footsteps.

"Now," Lady Grantham spoke, "Take deep breaths, try and calm yourself and tell me what you want to do,"

Tom sat up, blinking furiously to rid himself of the tears that streamed and breathing deeply to calm his breaths and heartbeat. He felt much calmer, the tears momentarily at bay and said,

"I'm going to go back in, I've got to, Sybil will want to see me and frankly, I need to see her,"

She patted him hand, smiling weakly, "Very well, come,"

* * *

Sybil sat up a little straighter as he came back in, holding his hand tightly and kissing his cheek. He nodded, giving her the crumpled letter. He saw the sympathy on Lady Grantham's and Matthew's faces as Sybil read the letter.

She gasped as she read the words, her hand covering her mouth.

"David?" she whispered.

Tom nodded, trying again not to cry, especially in front of Lord Grantham; that would not bode well for his pride.

"What's going on?" Lord Grantham asked his wife, who was slightly tearing. "I saw Matthew whisper something to Sybil,"

"He's had some very bad news from home."

He frowned, looking at the couple. He saw the evidence that Tom had been crying and that Sybil was about to. He heard the name David, that name meant little to him, come from Sybil and wondered what had happened.

"Does he wish for me to know?"

"Err-"

"Tell him, it's alright," Tom murmured, nodding slightly.

"His brother was shot by the Army and we don't know why," she said, other people around the table gasping as they over heard.

"That's absurd," Mary exclaimed. "For no reason? Unbelievable,"

Tom nodded, "You're right. It is absurd. The English Army are just killing for no reason now and that's murder." He could feel his distilled anger coming to surface but he controlled it as Sybil squeezed his hand, whispering for him to stop.

"Well, there must have been some reason," Lord Grantham said, making some of the people around the table frown at him.

Tom swallowed the words and let out an exasperated, angry huff.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked, dropping his cutlery making a loud clatter.

"Tom," Sybil cautioned.

"I'm not trying to say anything; I'm just suggesting that there must have been a just cause for him to be-"

"Killed? Shot? Taken out? Take your pick, which one do you want to use? Because I tell you this, milord, there are no just reasons for why he was shot. My brother was a good man, kept out of trouble and kept his head down and did his work. Now, for some reason, his wife and kids have to live without him, and with it being highly unlikely for Bree to get a job, well…you may as well add their names to graves."

By the end, Tom was stood, as was his lordship, both squaring off in anger.

"Robert! Sit down! Apologise at once," Lady Grantham shouted.

"Have you no respect? At all?" Sybil said, a soft but pleading tone covering her voice.

Robert walked towards Tom, trying to be as intimidating as possible. He tried to widen his shoulders but Tom was far stronger than he was.

"I am not responsible for what the Army does in Ireland, Mr Branson, but I believe as you, killing for no reason is murder, and from what I have heard, there hasn't been a murder in Ireland for a long time, only ones that are just."

"How dare you say that's there's been no-"

"And besides, if it's gotten this far, if it has become this bad in Ireland then why live there? Don't you think that you should move elsewhere? Or are you that selfish that you would risk my daughters-"

"My wife," Tom interrupted, but Robert carried on, his tone becoming more seething.

"My daughter's life in danger? Well? I really do think that you have no shame."

Tom gritted his teeth, failing to suppress the sheer rage he had for his father in law. Nothing had gone smoothly, like he'd hoped. Like Sybil had hoped. He knew that they wouldn't accept him and welcome him but on this scale, to use his brothers murder as an excuse to yell at him was an insult off the scale.

"Look, sir, all I have done is strived to care for Sybil and loved her and hope to be loved in return. I see no shame in that,"

Tom carried on, gesturing to Sybil but she wasn't looking, she wasn't even listening; the pain and fluttering in her stomach became more intense and she felt something trickle down her leg. She looked to see a clear liquid running off her foot.

"Tom," she mumbled.

Nothing. He was still arguing with her father.

"Tom," she said a little louder. This caught Mary's attention. She got up, walking to her sisters side.

"Are you alright?" she asked, but Sybil didn't hear. She was worrying too much at what was about to happen.

"Tom," she said even louder but still no response. They were shouting at each other now.

"TOM!" she snapped, annoyed at the situation and him completely ignoring her.

"Sybil," he snapped back in the same tone, sitting down.

He regretted it instantly. She had a blank expression on her face and she was breathing short shallow breaths. Her hand was clutching her stomach.

"I think the baby's coming," she whispered.

* * *

Robert gulped, stepping back slightly. Tom grabbed Sybil's arm, Mary the other, as they pulled her up to walk to a bedroom.

"Ahh!" she shouted in pain, hunching over to grab her stomach. "It hurts," she whimpered.

"I know it does," Tom said, still pulling her with Mary toward a room, any room that would be comfortable enough.

"We should get her to a bedroom," Mary said.

"Stairs?" Sybil gasped. "I can't-" She shook her head furiously, crying out in pain again.

"Where?" Tom shouted. He began to look around for any kind of safe, comfortable spot.

"What's happening?" Cora shouted to anyone who was listening.

"Sybil's having the baby but she can't make it up the stairs."

Everything began to get frantic; people shouting different things and worrying needlessly.

"We need to call Dr Clarkson!" someone shouted.

"Breathe Sybil, breathe," Mary cooed. Sybil nodded, tears beginning to fall from the pain and busy atmosphere.

"She can go through here, in the downstairs bedroom we kept for Matthew."

They hurried her through until they got to the door when Tom was pushed to the side, the women all walking in and shutting the door in his face.

"Hey! I know what to do! Please, let me in!" he shouted, banging on the door.

Mary came out, completely frazzled from what was happening.

"Tom, you can't, this isn't something that men see and I don't know if she wants you there."

"I've seen this many times, and trust me, it is that engraved on my brain that I will never forget. Please, let me help," he begged but a distressed cry from Sybil made Mary shake her head and close the door.

All he had to do, all he could do now was wait. He sat down on the floor, putting his head in his hands.

"Don't worry; they've called the doctor so he'll be here soon, unless he's sending a nurse, which is most probable and there's three of them in there and no doubt Robert has gone to fetch the female servants to help; she'll be in good hands." Matthew said, sitting next to him.

Tom nodded, standing when Anna, Daisy and another housemaid ran into the room. Now there were six in there helping her. He began to breathe a little easier but he knew that it would take a long time. Lord Grantham then appeared, resting against the hallway wall. Another cry came from the room and all the men looked at the door, holding their breaths for just a moment.

Tom knew that the waiting game was a terrible and distressing one but he knew that in the end, it would be worth it.

* * *

**N/A: She's having the baby! Personally, I think that's what'll happen - they'll come to visit and she'll end up having the baby very near Mary and Matthews wedding. I'll have to wait and see...**

**I noticed in the reviews that a lot of you were saying how Robert was beginning to regret not going to Sybil's wedding.. most definitely! As it goes on there will be more things that he will regret doing or not doing.**

**Please tell me what you think!**

**Update soon**

**Cheerio!**

**Jess xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Helloo!**

**Here's the other part to the next chapter. I had it attached ot the other first but it made it very long so I've cut it into two. I hope you're happy with this one - I am :D**

**Thank you for all the reviews and subscriptions again! It's nice this story has a dedicated audience XD**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sybil couldn't think straight; all that she could think of was the pain. She was being talked at, told several things and ordered about. As the pain slowly faded, her head began to clear and she said,

"Right! Enough! Please stop fussing over me! Let me have some room to breathe!"

All of the ladies stopped, stepping back slowly, giving her the room she wanted. She pulled off the heavy dress that she was wearing, assisted slightly by a wary Anna.

"Thank you," she whispered, starting to cry. "Sorry I shouted, that was terrible of me,"

"I understand, darling, you're in a lot of pain and all of this must be rather unnerving. Come and sit on the bed, let's get you comfortable." Cora smiled, rubbing her back. Mary and Edith nodded in agreement, preparing pillows and soaking a cloth in cool water, hoping to calm some of the fierce summer heat and perspiration glistening on Sybil's forehead.

Cora helped Sybil gently on the bed, pulling off some of the clothing that was considered unnecessary. Sybil begun sniffling slightly and was propped up on the bed, sighing as the coolness on her forehead soothed the humid aura around her.

"How are you feeling now?" Mary asked.

"Well, I think, but I know more pain will come. It happened before dinner,"

"What?" Cora asked, stunned and kneeling at Sybil's bedside.

"I got a sharp pain, like the ones I have been having in my room; Tom was very concerned. You know, I think that he knew that the baby was coming. AH!" she moaned out a long cry when another contraction hit. She was clenching her fist every second, just like Mrs Branson told her.

_For every second, clench and unclench your fist. Make sure to count the first time and remember the number. Do this every time the pain hits so you know how long the pain will last. As time goes on you may not be able to reach the number, that's good; that means that the baby is closer to arriving._

"57?" Sybil whispered, looking at her stomach. The first number she counted was 84. The numbers getting smaller…

"Darling?" her mother inquired. She took her sweaty hand, rubbing gently and admiring the wedding band that her left hand donned.

"Where is he?" Sybil panted.

"Outside the door," Mary answered. "He's very worried. Should I-?"

"No," Cora said before Sybil could answer. "He doesn't need to see this."

Sybil whimpered; she wanted to see him. She wanted to hear his words of comfort for they were the only ones that she would truly believe.

"Sybil, he cannot be in here, no matter how much you need him,"

"I will bet that you wanted Papa when we were born," Mary interjected.

"Look, not much is happening and the doctor isn't here yet, let him in." Edith agreed.

Cora frowned; they were all turning against her. Mary was right though, Cora did wish that Robert was there to support her but alas he wasn't allowed in, but times had changed. Should men be now encouraged to help their wives through this? She sighed, defeated.

"5 minutes," she stated, pulling away. Sybil smiled weakly, looking to the door.

"You've got a little time with her. She's quite desperate to see you," Edith smiled through the door.

Sybil heard the shuffling of feet and a slight shadow go over the bed. She opened her eyes to see Tom taking her hand, stroking it. The doors around the room shut, telling her that her sisters and mother had left.

"Tom," she smiled, trying to sit up.

"No, don't you dare sit up. I can see that you're quite comfy aren't you?" Tom warned, gently pushing her back down onto the pillows. He stroked her face, deciding that she was rather warm he gathered the small cloth, placing it back on her head.

"Truth be told, not really. I can feel my legs getting restless; I need to walk." She mumbled. Tom sighed, shaking his head. She couldn't go anywhere, not now that she was about to give birth.

"Sybil-"

"I'm not going to walk cross country Tom! I just want to stand; my legs are going dead I can feel it."

He still wasn't convinced that it would be right for her to do it. From the many scarring times he had seen childbirth it only took a few hours; there was no time for a walk. At the birth of his youngest sister, when he was 13, his father had died so there was no-one there to be in charge so he had to be. The doctor was called but he was too late. The birth time had taken only an hour and a half, his uncles and David returning with the doctor after Charlotte was born. At least his aunts were there to help; it would have been a nightmare otherwise.

"I don't know Sybil. Shall I ask your mother?" he suggested but she shook her head. She grabbed his hand tighter, not letting him go.

"No! Because then she'll ask you to leave and I don't want you to go," she whimpered. Tom smiled sympathetically and kissed her softly on the lips. They rested upon each others foreheads, their eyes closed to savour the moment.

"They'll have to drag me out then and I won't go quietly. I wont leave you," he whispered, laughing slightly.

She smiled too, kissing him again, only a little bit deeper, when she pulled away suddenly,

"Oh it's coming again," she sighed sitting back.

"Breathe and breathe deep. Fists?" he asked and she nodded, squeezing the air. Tom held her hand throughout the pain, kissing her forehead whenever she winced slightly. They thought that they were alone but Mary, crossing the line between being curious and just completely nosey, had her ear pressed up against the door, listening to their conversation. She stood back from the door, smiling in content.

"Something wrong?" Edith asked.

"No, she doesn't need us for a while," Mary answered.

* * *

Cora journeyed downstairs to find her husband to see what had happened to him. It was now 6 hours later since the labour had begun and there wasn't much progress. Dr Clarkson came and went, saying that it was going to be a long process and would be back in the early morning. She had found Mary and Edith asleep in the next room, much to her annoyance.

As she peered into Sybil's room though she smiled at what she saw. Tom was gently rubbing over Sybil's face, arms and neck with the water, trying hopelessly to cool her. Sybil was sleeping, well trying, her breath caught every time the cloth touched new skin.

"How much longer do you think?" a female voice asked, Anna.

"Not sure, we'll have to wait until the doctor gets here in the morning. Don't think it'll be tonight though. What time is it?"

"Quarter past 2," Anna answered, trying to stifle a yawn. Tom made a resound sigh. He knew as much as she that it was going to be a long night for everyone.

"You should go to bed Anna; you're up early in the morning."

"No, I'm staying here with her. You'll need someone to stay here should anything happen,"

Cora came away from the door, contented that two people were watching over Sybil. She found her husband in the library, speaking with Matthew and surprisingly Violet. The Dowager stood and though her tiredness evident on her face, she sounded as if she had just woken from a good nights rest.

"Oh Cora! How is she? What news?"

Cora smiled but shook her head.

"Not yet I'm afraid, Dr Clarkson said that it may not be until tomorrow. Tom is with her now,"

Robert and Matthew choked on their drinks, shocked at the absurdity of a man helping with such a delicate business.

"What?" Matthew gasped.

"He's seen and done this before apparently. He knows how to take care of her, so I let him and besides, Mary and Edith are asleep."

"Mary's retired has she?" Matthew asked.

"I know it's your wedding night Matthew but these things can't be helped."

Matthew frowned at his mother in law, shaking his head at the insinuation of anger.

"Oh no, I know, It's not like Sybil meant to do it," he laughed. "I'll see her tomorrow anyway,"

"Yes," Cora nodded. She turned to her husband who was stroking Isis, absent-mindedly. He was contemplating; she could see it in his eyes. What did he feel at this moment? He had been so closed off that no-one really knew what he was thinking other than petty hate. She walked up to him, taking his free hand.

"Robert? Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

He looked up to her and she was taken aback. He had a reddish tint around his eyes; he had been crying…or was extremely tired.

"Yes I'm fine, just-"

"You're very worried, I can tell, you don't need to hide it darling. Everyone is and we all know it," she whispered, kissing his hand gently. Robert hummed, wiping his forehead with his freehand.

"So, Branson takes it upon himself to save the day," Robert mused. Cora sighed, snatching her hand away and, for the first time in a very long time, poured herself a small glass of scotch, drinking it in one.

"Cora!" Violet gasped, "What on earth are you doing?"

"Swallowing my anger," she smiled sweetly, slamming the glass down next to her husband before walking away.

"Cora wait," Robert stood. "I-I'm sorry. Now isn't the time,"

She stopped in her tracks at her husband's sudden regret. She nodded and was about to argue with him.

"AH!" a loud scream sounded from upstairs and pounding footsteps could be heard; someone was running.

"Milady!" Tom shouted, no doubt waking the whole house. He came though the door, his hair messy and some blood on his shirt. He looked tired and scraggly; he needed a good nights rest.

"Tom, what-?"

"I think the baby's coming, as in now, we need to call the doctor!" he spoke loudly and hurriedly. Cora turned white and froze for a moment. She, any moment, would be a grandmother. She had waited for this moment since Mary had turned 18. Here it was, at last. Another scream shouted and a distressed call sounded throughout the house. This broke her from her daydream and she shot up the stairs, Tom in front and Matthew on her heels.

* * *

Mary and Edith were awake again, no doubt from the scream or from Tom waking them up.

"Breathe Sybil, breathe! Mama will be here soon as will the doctor. Can you hold on until then?" Mary asked her,

Sybil was panting loudly and was crying.

"No I can't! I feel like I need to push!" she shouted and then screamed. Cora burst into the room, about to close it when Tom put his foot in the way and said,

"I could help till the doctor gets here. I know what to do and what's right,"

She looked conflicted when Sybil cried out,

"Let him help…but he can't see!"

Tom frowned and nodded, letting the door stand ajar with him still in the hallway.

"What's happening, Sybil? What do you feel?"

"Like I really need to push. Something's changed. It feels different from before." She whimpered, laying her head back on the pillow.

Cora could see that her daughter was drained, she would be lucky if she didn't fall asleep during giving birth. She held her hand, trying to keep her awake and responsive.

* * *

After 3 hours of screaming and tears, the on-call nurse arrived as Dr Clarkson had retired. They all waited anxiously as she examined Sybil. The nurse nodded, and said,

"All men: outside. You don't need to see this. I'm sorry Mr Branson but you need to go."

He sighed, giving Sybil a quick kiss on her forehead, resulting in a slight whimper from her tired and sore mouth. The screaming from the pain and worn all energy from her body.

* * *

Tom found himself in a familiar position. He was outside in the hallway, sat on the floor with his head in his hands. Matthew too was outside, but stood leant against the wall, staring at nothing.

"How do you do it?" Matthew asked. Tom looked up at him; he looked very scared. Why was he scared? It wasn't Mary who was in there, screaming her lungs out for a child that there is chance that she may not meet. He frowned, ludicrous at Matthew's question.

"Huh?"

"How do you stay calm? You seem so…collected."

"Collected? Calm? Trust me I am none of those things right now. I am scared out of my wits for her. She could die." He whispered the last, not wanting to hear the words coming from his mouth. He could hear her loud shouts turning to pained moans and the women's voices inside turning hysteric.

"Well, you look it. It's rather admirable. I cannot imagine what you are going through," he said fondly but Tom hid away his face at another hoarse scream coming from the room. Matthew walked up to him, sitting opposite him, hitting his arms so he'd look up.

"She'll pull through this you know. She's strong. Do you remember the…incident in Ripon?"

"Remember it? That was my worst nightmare," he said, shaking his head.

"She banged her head rather severely and look-she pulled through that within an hour and managed to have enough energy to fight with her father afterwards. Trust me, she isn't going anywhere," Matthew consoled, patting his shoulder.

"You think so?" Tom replied, trying to hold back a distressed tear. There was some bustling and rustling in the room, making Tom stand and about to knock. He stopped himself, sitting back down again. He hit the floor, groaning in anger.

"How can you doubt her?" he asked and Tom nodded in knowing; Sybil would be fine.

A strange sound which sounded like a bark came closer to Tom. He ignored it until something wet touched his hand. Isis. He smiled a small smile, stroking her head once before she ran back in the direction she came; Lord Grantham walking out of the darkness. He nodded once expecting nothing more but silence but he felt someone sit next to him and sigh.

Tom looked up to see a crying Robert. He looked away, trying not to notice his father in laws tears but he was caught.

"I know, it gets to us all," he sniffed. Tom nodded slightly, wincing as another pained groan came from the room.

Isis lay on her back before the teary eyed men, happily wagging her tail and showing her stomach. Tom laughed through his tears,

"Nothing phases you does it? Eh girl? You're alright aren't you?" He rubbed her bell before patting her on her side. She barked, lowly but happily and stood, nudging Tom' hand for another pet.

"Isis," Robert groaned. "Let the man alone." He scrubbed her ears and she turned, sitting next to Matthew who stroked her and kept her still. Robert looked at his bereaved son in law and clapped him on the shoulder,

"It doesn't get easier, you know," he said softly. "The longer the wait the more anxious you get and when it turns to worry, well…"

"-there's no going back afterwards," Tom finished his sentence still staring at the wall ahead of him. Robert nodded.

Robert knew that his daughter was strong and living in Ireland has only made her stronger. Though it hurt him to hear her in pain, what hurt him the most was that he was so blind to the love that was there between them. He understood Tom's tears; he had been this worried when Cora was giving birth. Especially to Sybil.

There was trouble with Sybil's birth; of course she had to be difficult. She's never been anything else but. The umbilical chord managed to get wrapped around her tiny neck, almost killing her. She was also breech which didn't make things any better. Just difficult. The nurse, thankfully managed to untangle the chord, freeing their tiny girl and letting her live.

That was why he was so resistant to her marrying first; he could see it now.

She was a precious life that was almost lost and time had gone by far too quickly. He only had her for 15 years; the other 6 belonged to Tom when he arrived. That was when she was becoming lost to him. He could feel her slipping away into her future husbands arms and he just wasn't ready to let her go. He had only just managed to be comfortable with letting Mary go, Edith not too far behind her but not his special one.

"Are you well, Robert?" a voice distracted him. Matthew. Both young men were looking at him in confusion and worry. He realised that tears were streaming from his face and his throat had gone dry. He coughed uncomfortably and wiped his face with a handkerchief.

"I'm fine, I was just, thinking." He murmured.

More groans and moans came from the room, much louder than the rest, making the men snap their heads to the door and stand. It all went silent for a moment when the unmistakable cry from a baby was heard, ringing and echoing throughout the mansion.

Tom gasped, gripping his hands together in prayer. He didn't really believe in God but he still believed in the idea and he prayed to that idea to keep his wife and his baby safe. More tiny, high pitched squeals came and the door opened, revealing Mary, who had a grin that almost reached her ears.

* * *

Sybil pushed for seemed to be for the hundredth time when the pressure from inside her vanished, making her sigh in relief. She heard the slicing of scissors, making her anxious when a loud squeal made her eyes snap open. She peered upon the tiny life in the nurses hands and began to cry. She wept and wept, knowing that she had succeeded and her baby was fine.

Her mother and sisters crowded around her, kissing her forehead and murmuring words of congrats. A small clothed bundle was placed into her arms, a round bloodied head poking out a gap. The child had calmed quite a bit, now just making gurgling noises.

She smiled widely. Her baby was here. Tom's baby was here and all the pain that she had endured was forgotten and worth it.

She would do it a million times over to get the satisfaction of hearing the little one that she had cared for, for the long nine months cry and become a full life. She rocked her baby gently as she heard the door open to her side.

"Well done darling," Cora cooed, sniffling from the joyful tears in her eyes. "I'm so proud."

"You can come in now," Mary's voice sounded. Sybil would look up but she couldn't tear her face away from the little life. The baby's eyes opened to reveal wide blue orbs, gazing inquisitively at her. She gasped, crying again at the sight of a familiar set of eyes. Tom's eyes.

Though bloodied, Sybil could see her own dark brown hair beneath and instead of curling; it was a messy clump, much like Toms when he first woke in the morning, scraggly and mismatched.

"Can I take the little one for a wash?" the nurse asked, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Of course," Sybil said, but she begrudged the nurse from taking her baby away, even though she knew that she would bring her little one back. Sybil felt warm arms wrap around her shoulders, squeezing her slightly and kissing her temple. She gazed up through teary eyes to see Tom also crying. She laughed slightly and he joined in.

"So? Where's my little girl then?" he joked, making Sybil laugh loudly. Cora, May, Edith and Anna smiled simultaneously; it was nice to hear her laugh again rather than crying in pain.

"Girl?" she asked and he nodded but he stopped, looking at the doorway where his child was just being washed.

"Wait." He thought aloud and the girls were smirking. The small bundle was brought back through; placed back in Sybil's arms and the small child could be seen much clearer. The child had Tom's face, bar from Sybil nose, and gurgled happily.

"It's a boy, silly man." Sybil whispered and Tom laughed. "We have a son. I knew you were wrong."

Tom traced a finger down his son's cheek, his finger then becoming trapped in the light grasp of his son's fist. They gasped together, smiling fondly at him. The others left silently, one by one, not wanting to disturb the precious moment between husband and wife. Tom cooed and Sybil whispered to the little one until they managed to look at each other.

"I'm so proud, I don't think I've ever-"

She cut him off with a kiss, a passionate one that thanked him for everything; helping, nursing, loving and giving her the tiny life in her arms.

"Wow," he mumbled when she pulled away, making her giggle. She rocked the slightly jostled boy in her arms, lulling him back to sleep. "What should we call him?" he asked, coming round to sit on the bed next to her.

He felt how warm she was and how wet the sheets were. He made a metal note to change the sheets to make her more comfortable. She must be sticky from sweating. He stroked her cheek, she kissing his thumb as he traced it over her lips.

"I don't know," she mumbled.

That could wait until morning, they both thought. Instead they cooed over their new son, rocking him gently and talking of renovations for the house.

"Do I get to hold him?" Tom asked gently; he saw the look Sybil gave the nurse when she tried to take him away.

She nodded, placing the tiny boy in the cradle Tom made with his arms. He managed to adjust it slightly so the boys head was propped up. He saw his own eyes copied precisely onto his boys and his mother's coloured hair. It was slightly messy like his and he could see his own features mixed in with Sybil's evident on the baby's face. Tom declared at that moment that he would be a handsome boy.

He crooned an old Gaelic lullaby that his mother used to sing to him and the little ones eyes began to droop. They scrunched up some 5 minutes later when his mouth began to open and close. Tom could see that his boy was about to cry and he looked to Sybil, who looked confused.

"He needs feeding," Tom whispered shyly. Sybil smiled, taking the boy from him. She hesitated for a moment and Tom suggested his leave but she declined; she wanted him there to help.

After a few moments of fumbling with her night dress and trying not to hurt their newborn or each other, Tom was laid on the pillows next to her, sleep offending his vision. But he didn't want to sleep. Seeing his wife feed their son was a sight worth seeing. She was crooning to him, murmuring soft words of comfort and rubbing his back gently.

She would hiss sometimes; she said it hurt. This confused him; babies didn't have teeth. He knew this to be true as he had been around countless babies, friends and his own nephews and nieces.

Then his mind reverted to his brother. Poor David. He shook his head; he would deal with that later.

Sybil watched her husbands face turn from love to grief in a matter of moments. She frowned, stroking his head softly.

"Don't think of it. Later," she whispered.

* * *

Robert was pacing in his library, drinking his fourth scotch. They had had a son. That wasn't good, well, it was, but... He had asked Mary and Matthew to see him in the morning.

Everyone else was up there now, cooing over the baby. Robert could sometimes hear his cries; cries of hunger, cries of tiredness, cries of just being annoyed for being passed around. He didn't envy the child; he needed the room to think.

First thing tomorrow morning he would call his lawyer to see what could be done.

* * *

**A/N: They had a baby boy! N'aww! Tom couldn't be right - he can't be right about everything! and what's Robert doing now?**

**Have you heard? I have a new story! Its another Downton Abbey one but it takes a little spin on Sybil and Tom - it is about their descendant who researches about her family and finds out about Tom and Sybil - sounds shit, which means it probably is but give it a chance. I have good things planned for it. **

**Please tell me what you think!**

**Cheerio!**

**J xxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Helloo!**

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**Enjoy!**

* * *

It was past noon and Mrs Hughes, unknowing to the night's events, wondered what on earth was going on. She noticed Anna, leant up against the wall, yawning and rubbing her tired eyes.

"Anna," she called. She jumped, mumbling apologies and getting back to her work. Mrs Hughes shook her head and spoke softly,

"Where is everyone? How come they aren't awake?"

Anna frowned and then smiled, putting down her bucket and mop and taking her hand,

"Come on," she said, pulling her up the stairs. "You need to see this," Anna knocked on the bedroom door quietly; hearing groans and harsh words coming from the other side.

"Come in!" Tom's rough voice rang and she guiltily opened the door. They tentively stepped through, seeing Sybil asleep on the bed and Tom in the armchair. He was still wearing the dinner clothes from yesterday and he had deep bluish rings under his eyes. His hair was messed and his face slightly red from lack of sleep.

Mrs Hughes frowned, about to speak.

"Shh!" he warned, pointing at Sybil. Anna nodded and whispered, "Mrs Hughes wanted to know what was going on,"

Tom smiled and walked over to the crib, gently picking up his son to show Mrs Hughes. She gasped at the tiny baby, looking between Anna, Tom and Sybil.

"She had the baby? Why didn't anybody tell me this!" she sighed loudly.

"Shh!" Tom and Anna snapped, the baby cooing and groaning a little. His face scrunched up and his hands started to wave about; he was going to cry. Tom then began rocking him, sitting back in the chair to sooth him.

"Anna, where do you keep the clean sheets?" Tom whispered. "We'll want to change them as they're still from last night,"

Anna turned, looking in disbelief. Usually she would have to change the sheets; she's never had anyone ask her for their whereabouts so to change those themselves.

"They're in the linen closet but I can get them; you have your hands full anyhow. We've been told by her ladyship to help you two through anything you ask."

Tom nodded but frowned, "I don't want to put you out. No doubt you're tired from last night." He yawned on cue and laughed. "And so am I it seems,"

Mrs Hughes looked at the doting new father and smiled, "Well, you better get your strength up because no doubt the whole family will want to meet…"

"Him. A boy," Tom rectified.

"Well, the whole family will want to meet him. Hopefully he's well rested too. A lot of being passed around, I see."

"Yes, he will," Sybil spoke, smiling as she pulled herself up from the bed. Anna hurried over, helping her stand and said good morning.

"Hello, dear," she said happily, walking over to Tom and their son, kissing each on the forehead.

"Hi, did you sleep well?" he asked softly, making Mrs Hughes and Anna each turn away blushing in embarrassment for witnessing this tender moment.

"Yes, it was fine. I ache all over though."

Anna turned back then to see the baby in Sybil's arm and Tom stroking her back.

"I could draw you a bath, if you'd like." She asked. Sybil smiled and nodded.

"That would be wonderful, thank you Anna,"

Mrs Hughes nodded in approval; she could see how much the youngest daughter had changed, for the better too. She always thought that Sybil was the odd one out of the three girls.

As a baby she was observant, always looking around and picking up new things that she had never seen before, like the silverware and Isis, and pat, poke and play with it until she understood how it worked.

As a child, she would always cause mischief, doing little practical jokes that would make the guests laugh but make her parents and her sisters scorn her as she wasn't as controlled as them.

As she got older, her curiosity turned into pure interest and turned it to politics. She would always argue with her father or her grandmother over silly things, like the views in the world and society. Yes, society was a popular topic that she and her father fought about. One particular story that she was told about made the whole house realise that Sybil had different ideas on the world.

_Walking through London, thirteen year old Sybil held her mothers hand, watching as seventeen year old Mary and another boy her age walked ahead, laughing and talking. Her father was behind her, talking to Edith and her Aunt Rosamond. She sighed, looking for anything to distract her attention. A man walked past them then; his clothes were slightly scruffy and he had a tattered suitcase. _

_She observed how different he was, Papa never owned clothing like that; his were rather nice. She looked across the road to see a woman sat on the floor, her clothes even tattier than his, holding out her hands. She was a beggar._

"_Mama? Why is it that the rich don't help the poor? Surely they would benefit and we would still be alright."_

_Lady Grantham looked down on her daughter in shock, then looking back to Robert for support. He wasn't listening so she had to deal with this herself._

"_Politics isn't my forte darling, you should ask your father," she dismissed. _

_So Sybil did. She turned and asked her papa the sane question, her eyes wide, inquisitive but demanding._

_He frowned, pulling her behind the others so they could have a private talk._

"_Dear, they can get jobs from employers. There are plenty of them and that's how they get money."_

"_But what about the people who don't have a job. Who helps them? Surely we should."_

"_No, Sybil. It's not our place. Besides there are systems in place for them to seek help from, those who don't use it are fools."_

_She shook her head defiantly. She pushed her hand inside her pocket, pulling out what little change she had, and walked up to the beggar woman, giving it to her._

"_Sybil!" her father shouted, enraged by her actions. _

"_See? I helped and I don't see the sky falling Papa!" she shouted back. "It's wrong that we don't help them,"_

_Robert stalked over to her, pulling on her arm, "Will you hold your tongue?" he hissed. She scowled at him, pulling her arm away, stomping back toward her family. _

This story was talked about for years…until Sybil became interested in women's rights and cracked her head on table in Ripon in a fight, making her bleed. Mrs Hughes brought her mind back to the present, focusing on what was being said around her.

She could hear water running and Anna and Tom, in combined efforts, changing the bed. She concluded that Anna had it all under control and left, catching up the days duties.

* * *

Mary heard the grandfather clock chiming only once and realised how late it was in the day. She stretched, her hand coming into contact with something.

"Ow!" a voice groaned. She had just hit Matthew in the head whilst stretching. She giggled, rubbing the spot where she unintentionally smacked him.

"Sorry," she kissed his forehead; he smiled fondly back. "I heard the clock chime 1 so I think its time to get up. Else we won't sleep tonight."

Matthew nodded, stretching also and yawning, waking his aching muscles from their short slumber.

"How are you this morning?" he asked. She sighed, flopping back onto her pillow.

She hissed as pins dug into her head. She still had her hair in place from dinner last night. In fact, she was still in the dress she was wearing. There was just no time to change and they were all exhausted.

"Drained. God knows how Sybil feels. I can't believe I didn't change. I feel awful," she groaned and Matthew chuckled. He went to bed slightly earlier than his wife- he smiled at the thought, Mary was finally his wife and he exulted in his mind- so he had time to change.

He heard Mary coming at 4 this morning, a sleepy smile on her face. He knew that Sybil had finally given birth.

"What did they have?" he asked. Mary frowned until it clicked in her head that he was talking about the baby.

"Oh, a boy," she smiled. "By the way, Papa wants to see us in the library soon. He asked me to tell you last night, well, this morning."

Matthew nodded, getting up slowly from the bed to look out the window. He saw the car pull up, revealing Violet and Lady Rosamond. Matthew chuckled.

"Well, the reception party's here. I think we'd better get dressed, dear."

He felt Mary come up behind him and peer over his shoulder out the window. She tutted and laughed, ringing the bell for Anna, hopefully, to come upstairs.

* * *

"Miss O'Brien, can you go upstairs and help Lady Mary please? Anna is with the Branson's."

Miss O'Brien dropped her fork, not even taking a bite to eat and tutted.

"Is she joking?" She grumbled to herself. The bell rang again and she threw down her napkin and ignoring the stifled laughs coming from Bates and Mrs Hughes.

Anna ran down the stairs toward the servant's hall, passing Miss O'Brien who gave her a very disgruntled look, and quickly grabbed something to eat.

"Are you alright, Anna?" Carson asked. She nodded, a little frazzled. She turned to face them and Mrs Hughes sighed,

"Anna, go to bed, you, like the Branson's have been up the best part of the night. You'll be no good to us later on in the day,"

Anna sat, patting her husband's hand in hello before speaking,

"No, I need to stay up. I said that I would help them, and they're not taking advantage, in fact they've told me plenty to go to bed but with Sybil still being on bed rest, they need help,"

Mr Carson piped up then, looking at Anna sympathetically.

"Anna, with most of the family now awake I'm sure that they'll be able to find help elsewhere. Now, I'll tell her ladyship that I've given you the rest of the day and night off, now please, got to bed,"

Anna sighed, secretly thanking Mr Carson in her head for giving her the time to rest and slowly, to keep up her begrudging attitude, walked outside, toward hers and Bates cottage.

* * *

"Anna, wait!" her husband called and she smiled. She turned and waited for him, taking his hand when he reached her.

"Mr Carson told me to help you home, couldn't have you sleeping on the side of the road." He joked and she giggled slightly, her tiredness creeping.

"How are they?" he asked. He had heard Anna get up during the night, not coming back until the early hours of the morning. She sounded very worried first going out; he also heard worried voices. When she returned, she was groaning, not bothering to sleep as she would have to be up again in 2 hours.

"They're fine; such a beautiful baby," she smiled. She leant her head on his shoulder, letting her eyes loll slightly.

"I heard they had a boy, good for them," John stated. "Though…" he trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

"What? What's wrong with them having a boy?" Anna asked, stopping their walk. She could see that John was hiding something but she didn't know what. She asked him again but he said nothing. Just coughed and looked sheepish.

"John," she warned with conviction. He sighed, and told her his secret.

* * *

"What did you want, Papa? We're here," Marry announced as she and Matthew walked into the library to meet Lord Grantham. He was sat at his desk, signing something as a man sat waiting.

"You remember Mr George Murray, my lawyer, don't you Mary?" he asked, nodding toward the man. He stood, shaking Matthews hand and then Mary's.

"Well of course, though I can't think as to inquire why he's here," she smiled, sitting down. Matthew took Mary's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good.

"Well, I am here on business, and it involves you two, milady," he said, clarifying for her. Mary and Matthew exchanged a wary look, Mary sharing it with her father and silently asking what was wrong.

"Oh right, well, tell us, what business are you here for?"

Mr Murray coughed uneasily, taking out some papers and what looked like wills. He looked up, nodding and the door to the library opened, the Dowager Countess walking in.

"Oh what is all this nonsense about business." She complained to the lawyer and her son. The newlyweds tried to stile their laughs, but were silenced by Lord Grantham. "Robert, you know as well as I that I am not as young as I used to be; I would very much like to see my great grandchild, if that is well with you!"

Robert looked very uncomfortable; his mother's wrath wasn't something to be reckoned with. He saw it in his daughter's too so he's never been able to win a fight.

"Of course Mama, but you need to hear this." Robert gestured to the chaise lounge for her to sit.

She grumbled, sitting next to Mary and impatiently waiting for Mr Murray to begin.

"As you know, the next heir is determined through the direct bloodline through your father Lady Mary which ultimately leads to Matthew."

Violet sighed, thinking that her time was being wasted. Matthew and Mary tried to listen but their minds were elsewhere.

"What different then? I can see it coming," Mary asked bluntly.

"Yes, of course," Mr Murray said, looking over his papers again before continuing, "However, since your sister had a boy, making him grandson, his line is much closer to his lordships, which I'm afraid means-"

Mary stood, stopping him, "Wait, before you utter one more word, I swear to God," she snatched the papers from the table, reading them over and over.

"Papa! How can this be possible? How can a baby take it all away? What happens if say Edith has a son, or if Sybil has another? What happens then?" She was starting to get hysterical. Matthew stood, guiding Mary to sit back down again but she fought him off, still starting teary eyed at her father.

"I think the man has more to say dear, sit down," the Dowager said, looking at a rather annoyed Mr Murray. His gaze flickered to her son; ah, his annoyance was directed at him. He knew that Mary would over react to something. Mary sighed, sitting down and resting her head on Matthew shoulder.

"This means that, yes, he is the new heir but, there is a but, his parents have to accept this for him, after all he is only a baby. We will review this again in 18 years if you haven't inherited, as he will then be of age and will be able to make the decision for himself. And answers to your earlier questions, he is the first grandson. If they had given birth to a girl and your sister Edith had a boy or if their second child was a boy, he would be the beneficiary. It's just a matter of luck I suppose."

Mary exhaled. She took in all the information and tried to process it. She began to laugh, much to her family's worry. Her laughter became hysterical, not calming much before speaking,

"So, that fate of mine and Matthews's future rests with a baby who isn't even a day old and parents who revel in rebellious antics and political issues! This…is ludicrous!" she laughed. Matthew held her shoulders, trying to calm her down. Her laughter then turned into tears. He rocked her gently; she had had her title and fortune taken and given back to her too many times; once more and he knew that she wouldn't be able to cope anymore.

Robert waited until Mary had calmed a little before speaking,

"Of course, we're not to tell them anything yet-"

"Quite right!" Mary snapped; her expression was enraged. "We shouldn't tell them anything at all!"

Mr Murray hesitantly spoke, saying that it would be illegal for her to withhold this information to the rightful heir. She snorted, bursting into tears again before running out the door. Matthew too felt angry, not at his in laws and his new nephew but at Lord Grantham for bringing this delicate matter up at such a stupid and inappropriate time.

He nodded to the Dowager, ignoring the two men before going after his wife. Violet stood, also turning to leave but her parting words, in an annoyed tone, were,

"Well, that went well didn't it? And perfect time too, if I may say so Robert."

Both men suffered under the Dowagers wrath, shrinking in silence as she left.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Anna exclaimed, pacing as her husband sat at their dinner table. He had told her everything; if Tom and Sybil accept the title for their son, Lady Mary and Matthew won't inherit.

"And his lordship told you this?"

John nodded, looking very guilty. His lordship told him of his plan this morning just before the lawyer arrived. Soon after he found out, he saw Lady Mary was smiling with Matthew, both enjoying the bliss of ignorance.

"Yes, but you can't tell anyone Anna, not even Sybil and Tom-"

"I wish you hadn't told me!" she sighed, exasperated. She flopped down on their sofa, lying down to rest her eyes.

"I'm sorry, you are right, I shouldn't have told you. I guess I'm just a little used to our closeness," he sighed, standing. He should really get back to the house; Carson would be wondering what was keeping him. He looked at the clock. It was mid-afternoon and Lord Grantham would want his suit ironed for dinner tonight.

"Get some rest, you need it. I've got to be getting back." He announced, giving Anna a blanket before leaving. As soon as Anna shut her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"How about…Lucas?" Sybil suggested. Tom laughed and she pouted. She turned away from him, hurt at him laughing at what seemed a perfectly nice name.

"Sorry! I wasn't laughing at the name. I had a friend called Lucas and he's done a lot of stupid things in his life. It made me think of him and I laughed."

She scowled, thinning her eyes and giving her husband a look. She didn't know whether to believe him. All the names that they've tried to come up with were a disaster. She looked back at the boy in her arms, wide awake and moving. His hair was becoming thicker, like Sybil's, and darker. His eyes were inquisitive, always looking around and watching.

She noticed little things about him; how his fists would clench and open when he wanted something, usually Tom. When his adorable face scrunched up impossibly tight it meant that he was going to cry. When he started chewing on air, it meant that he was hungry. There were lots that she'd noticed.

A knock came at the door and her sisters came in, big smiles on their faces. Sybil looked at Mary much closer; she had red rings around her eyes and her breathing was slightly laboured. She had been crying. Lady Grantham was behind them, ushering them in also with a large smile on her face.

"Hello dears how are you today?" she asked. Sybil smiled fondly and Tom stood, putting his hands in his pockets, thoroughly at ease. The two sisters came closer, sitting next to and by Sybil, looking over at the baby. Cora patted Tom's arm, still smiling. She waited until the girls moved away to fawn over the baby; she let them have their moment.

"Do you have a name yet?" Edith asked, holding her arms out to take the baby. Sybil gave him to her gladly, her hands free to pull Tom down to sit next to her on the bed.

"No," Sybil pouted glumly. "Any name I suggest, Tom laughs at,"

Tom stared wide eyed, "I do not!" he whined like a small child blamed for the crime. He scoffed a little, winking slyly at his wife, telling her to play along. She giggled, kissing his cheek.

"We have some names," Mary suggested. All the women looked sheepish, giving sly loos to one another. Tom sighed, smiling.

"Go ahead."

"Well, there's Patrick, after Cousin Patrick-" Edith started.

"And it's an Irish name so that's a bonus." Mary interjected, looking at Tom with a wry smile.

Tom sneered a laugh at the un-funny joke, making Sybil and Lady Grantham giggle. Edith exhaled, waiting for Mary to step back from the spot light for one moment.

"There's Daniel but I don't really like that one."

"Why?" Sybil asked.

"She just doesn't like the name," Cora sighed. She moved over to Edith, stroking the baby's cheek and cooing over him.

He began to fuss, making little squeaking noises and sure enough, his face scrunched up and he let out a loud wail, making all the grown ups wince and coo.

"Sounds like little lad doesn't like the name either," Tom smiled, taking him from a very smug Edith. Mary rolled her eyes and sighed. Cora tried to stifle a giggle. He rocked his son, smiling widely whenever his small eyes looked up at him.

"I came up with Eth-"

"David," Sybil's voice ruled, cutting off Mary and making Tom give her a grave look.

He sat on the bed slowly, sadness coming over him. He never thought of naming his son after his brother but he guessed it was because his nephew was already named after him. Tom shook his head; having his son named after his brother would make him angry as he would always remember.

"My nephew, his son, is already named after him. There's no need, as much as it would be a good gesture,"

Sybil nodded and said, much quieter, "It would make you remember too, and make you angry,"

He nodded; she could read him like a book. It came in very handy when he had been out late at night; he didn't need to explain himself as she already knew or guessed.

Sybil regretted bring up the name as it was the catalyst for Tom's sadness and angry thoughts. She could see that he was about to cry so she changed the subject, bringing his mind back to happier things.

"Can you think of any Mama?" She asked. Cora thought for a moment; she hadn't come up with any, this were her daughter's territory; she just wanted to see the little one.

"Bradley?" she suggested. "My cousin in New York is called that. Such a nice boy, I don't know if you girls remember him,"

Sybil smiled; she remembered her mother's cousin Bradley. He wasn't much older than Mary but that, along with their DNA, was the only thing they had in common. He was care free and had a sense of humour that made even Granny laugh.

"Remember him? I think he is permanently etched into all our minds after he sent Granny to bed in fits of laughter!" Mary laughed. "But yes, that's a nice name."

Tom and Sybil both nodded, gazing at their son to see if the name fit.

"Bradley Branson." Sybil tried and then chuckled. "That doesn't really-"

"Don't sit right does it?" Tom shook his head and they passed up the name.

They tried for the next half an hour to come up with a name, with no success.

"I never knew that it would be this hard to find a name!" Sybil sighed, mentally exhausted. She swore that they must have mentioned every name known to man; even Robert which Sybil rejected straight away. She didn't want to be reminded of her father for the best part of her life, much as Tom didn't want to be reminded of his brother.

* * *

Mary had left, her place in the room being taken by the Dowager Countess who, to everyone's surprise, fawned and fussed over the baby the most. Though she only got to hold him for a few moments; her arms weren't as strong as they once were, she couldn't contain the joy she felt when holding him, like all the others.

A new baby in the house was exactly what the house needed given the large black cloud that had been hanging over it: the war, the many deaths, Sybil's seemingly drastic elopement; though without it, the sadness would never have left.

"So he still doesn't have a name? Poor child," Violet sighed. "We need to think of something, it cannot be impossible. How many children does your mother have Tom?"

Tom frowned at the seemingly personal and pointless question. He thought that he'd better answer; he'd only just got into her good books.

"Seven. 4 girls, 3 boys,"

"And you're the eldest," Sybil added.

"Goodness! Did she have trouble with naming you all?" Violet gasped. Tom could see where she was going with this.

"Well, not really, the older kids never really got a say; it was Ma and Pa who chose them, apart from Charlotte."

"We need your mother here. She must have a knack for names," She sighed.

"Aye," Tom mumbled, taking a sip from the mug of tea, Ivy, the new housemaid bought them. He stood on the far side of the room away from Sybil; she hated the smell of tea, ever since she'd been pregnant. Even now, after the baby had been born, it baffled him that she was still adverse to the smell.

"Oh that reminds me, I've written a letter to your Ma, telling her about our boy," Sybil piped up, opening a draw and pulling out an envelope. She tried getting up; this would be the first time in days she would have been on her feet- she managed to stand, beginning to walk over to Tom when she smelt tea.

She stopped in her tracks, wincing and holding out the letter.

"Take it," she squeaked and Tom chuckled, setting down the mug in an over exaggerated gesture.

"I'll post it later," he promised, kissing her forehead. Cora smiled, but distracted herself from the intimate moment by smiling at her grandson in her arms.

* * *

A knock came at the door, making them all turn.

"Sybil?" Lord Grantham entered, calling his daughter. His eyes popped slightly at the amount of people in the small- well, smaller than the normal gathering rooms-bedroom and cough uncomfortably.

"I'll come back later,"

"No!" Sybil called, stopping him in his tracks and reaching out her hand slightly. She hadn't seen him in what seemed forever and she didn't want to see him go now. "Please, stay," she begged.

Tom took a step away from his wife, hoping to make his father in law more comfortable and appease him for them not being too close for his comfort.

Robert looked at his family, seeing all their pleading and begging faces; the one that stood out most was his wife. She was holding the boy, occasionally glancing a looking at him. She looked like she was on the brink of tears, ready to shed them if he refused Sybil. He nodded and closed the door behind him, standing awkwardly in the corner.

There was a long silence to go with it until Violet and Edith stated their leave to get ready for luncheon.

"Good luck with the naming," Edith said, giving a hopeful smile to Sybil, who shrugged back.

"Naming? The little chap hasn't got a name yet?" Robert asked, frowning in disbelief. When the girls were born, Cora had named them fully before he got the chance to meet them.

"No, not yet. We can't find one that sticks," Sybil murmured, sitting down in the armchair by the window. She sighed as the warm sunshine hit her face; how she longed to go outside just for a little while. But no-one would let her.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll find one," he acquiesced, making leave toward the door.

"Don't you want to see him, Robert?" Cora asked, though her tone was harsh. Robert guessed that he wasn't leaving for a long time.

He noticed Sybil and Tom look at him, her gaze expectant and Tom's rather unhopeful. Lord Grantham could see that the new father in front of him knew that he didn't want to be there. Rather than give him the satisfaction of victory, he decided to prove them wrong.

"Of course," he smiled, taking a hesitant step forward.

Sybil couldn't believe it. She believed it to be a dream, but after pinching her leg she found that it wasn't. She watched as her mother passed their grandson to her father, him making an awkward cradle from his arms. She smiled as her son gurgled, his small fist grasping at Lord Grantham's jacket lapel.

"Well," he started but never finished, he was lost for words. He hadn't held a baby for a long time but the happiness you felt when you see their tiny little face. He smiled widely, for the first time in what seemed a while, a genuine smile.

Sybil chuckled, standing to hold Toms hand in hope. Tom studied his lordships face, wondering what was going on inside his head. Usually his lordships emotions were very easy to read as they mirrored his thoughts, but the calm contemplation and the awed smile that he could see made his thoughts very hard to guess. Was he happy? Or just putting on a front?

"How about Christopher?" Robert suggested, making the couple exchange a look. Cora, too, looked at her husband, wondering if he had gone mad, if she had gone mad; his approval could be a mirage, a trick of the tired mind.

"Christopher?" Sybil questioned. She never thought of that name. She smiled and looked at her husband for his opinion. He nodded his head and she walked over to her Papa, stroking her son's cheek.

"I like it, such a good name." she whispered. "Hello Christopher."

* * *

**A/N: Aww he now has a name. It took me a while to find a name that would be good enough. **

**Now, I don't know if the inheritance will pass, i made it up, but I think it would be common sense to give it to a grandson rather than a third cousin. A grandson seems to be a closer relation. Don't criticise if I'm wrong, I made it up!**

**Please tell me what you think!**

**Cheerio**

**J xxx **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hellooo!**

**You will find that I haven't changed the story. The only reason why I was going to change it is because I thought it would make the story better to be accurate. I have written a few twilight stories and my main one doesn't follow canon and that's because it's in a fantasy world and you can get away with it and with this, with it being set in a 'real' setting then I thought that I couldn't get away with being a little inaccurate.**

**On a happier note, people who don't sign in when leaving reviews I will have replies to your****s at the end of each new chapter after my end authors note :D**

**Enjoy this long deserved chapter!**

* * *

That afternoon, little Christopher was to be shown to the remaining eager family members downstairs. Sybil was too, much to her delight- she hadn't stepped on her own two feet for a long time- on the condition that she goes straight to bed afterward. This caused her bad temper to arouse. Her independence was being thwarted by her mother and her dutiful husband stood to the side, probably too terrified to join in.

"Mama, why must I go to bed, I've spent enough time there and I feel fine, please Mama, let me stay up for dinner." She begged.

Cora rummaged through Sybil's remaining wardrobe, looking for something suitable for her to wear; appropriate for company but comfortable enough for her to bear.

"Darling, you can press this all you like but, trust me, you'll be tired after a while," Cora sighed, not bothering to look at her daughter for she knew that she would be pouting.

"Tom, tell her!" Sybil whined, throwing her arms down her sides like a petulant child. He looked blankly at her, and then to his mother in law, his gaze switching between the two women. He rocked his son gently in his arms and mumbled,

"I don't want to get involved,"

He looked away from them sheepishly, trying not to chuckle when Sybil moaned, slumping on the bed. Cora however didn't hold in her amusement.

"Oh darling! What a face! It may have worked when you were 6 but not now," She laughed. Tom hid his face in his son's blankets, laughing silently, giving in. He knew that if Sybil caught him laughing, he would have hell to pay.

"Well," Sybil bargained. "At least let me stay in the drawing room before dinner, I'll go up when you all go in, promise."

"Really?" Tom questioned, though that was the wrong thing to do. He sunk back a little as his already enraged wife began to advance on him.

"Yes!" she hissed. "I will, you can take me up if you like just to make sure. Besides, Christopher will need to go to bed anyway so I'll already be upstairs."

Tom sighed, placing Christopher back in his crib, leaving him to sleep. It's not that he didn't trust his wife, he did completely, it's just that she was very stubborn and will look for any kind of technicality to get her way; all in all, it was very cunning. He moved to sit next to her, taking her hand as she rested her head on his shoulder. Sybil could feel her eyes drooping a little; the surprising comfort of her husbands shoulder caught her off guard and showed her how tired she really was.

"Look, she's falling asleep already," Cora said to Tom lowly. He chuckled, stroking her cheek to sooth her from the slight jostling of his shoulders.

"No I'm not," Sybil protested, sitting straight up. Cora smiled, pulling out the last dress that was in her wardrobe. She roughly placed it on the armchair with all the other rejected dresses and slumped in the second armchair by the window. Looking out she saw her husband and Isis, walking up the path towards the village. She frowned, wondering where he was going. She tuned out the low buzzing of Sybil and Tom's talking, tapping a slow rhythm with her fingernails on the worn windowsill.

"Are you alright Mama?" Sybil asked. Cora turned to see her daughter stood behind her, much closer than she was before, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Where's he going?" Sybil asked quietly, looking out the window. She moved closer to see if there was any more activity but there was none. She sighed. Usually he would have someone tell Mama where he was going, but this time no word? Whether it was the wrong one, she quickly came to the conclusion that her father had left to avoid the family gathering.

A knock came at the door, just in time to quell Sybil's impeding anger, Cora instructed them to enter. Anna and Ivy walked in, holding a dress.

"Edith told us that you were looking for a dress and she said that she had one spare that would fit." Anna announced, making Lady Grantham smile.

"Oh thank goodness you found one; none of the dresses here fit," She said, standing to take the dress from Anna.

"Also," Ivy started, "We've been told to help her dress Milady,"

Lady Grantham nodded, thanking them and sat back in the armchair. Tom made his leave as he would need to change himself, kissing his wife on the cheek before going. As soon as the door closed, Christopher stirred and groaned, very unsettled. Cora stood, picking up her grandson as Sybil was being carefully dressed against her will. She cooed and whispered to him gently, trying to prevent him from waking up. She turned around facing Sybil about to ask her why he was crying when she spoke.

"It always happens when one of us leaves the room. He misses us. It's strange, he always knows,"

Cora rocked him, sitting on the bed closer to Sybil; Christopher settled slightly, just making little noises.

"I know. You were the same you know. You used to scream whenever I and your father left the room. One of us always had to be with you. Until you tired yourself out from screaming of course," she laughed.

* * *

"I can't wait to see the baby," Daisy cooed, stacking pots and pans which have been newly cleaned. The other maids smiled and agreed; the thought of a baby made the women truly broody. Bates and Mr Young, the new chauffer, just rolled their eyes and smiled. Women, they'd think.

Mr Young was a nice man but was a complete juxtapose to his name. Though John didn't ask, he knew that Young must have been older than him. When the Branson's arrived, he saw Tom's sly grin at his predecessor. John remembered Tom saying to him, '_well, his lordship wouldn't want Edith running off with the next chauffer, I think it'd kill him!'_

Bates broke when Mrs Patmore laughed heartily, almost mockingly and said, "Oh aye, and who says that you get to see the baby?"

Daisy went quiet and frowned. She felt rather silly for speaking, she usually did. She stuttered and went back to her work, ignoring Mrs Patmore's taunting gaze.

"I don't think Lady Sybil would mind us all seeing the baby, any chance to show him off!" Anna joked, walking through to sit at the table. It was near their lunchtime so everyone was either in or around the servant's hall.

"He's gorgeous." Anna smiled. She felt slightly privileged to have been the only one, bar from Mrs Hughes, to have met the little chap out of the rest of the servants but she wouldn't blatantly boast abut it, like Miss O'Brien would if she had. Though, saying that, Anna didn't think that O'Brien would care either which way.

"What did they name him?" Daisy asked. She set out all of the plates and cutlery, looking away as Carson's disapproving look was aimed at her.

"What are we discussing?" his voice boomed. Everyone stayed silent. Talking of Lady Sybil's and Tom's marriage was a rather taboo subject to Mr Carson; he believed that she could be the downfall of this great house. No-one else believed him. She made her choice and to most of the servants, it was a good one for her.

"I hope that we are not discussing something that I would not taint my ears with…" Carson drawled, sitting in his seat and bearing his stern gaze at the main culprits; mainly Bates and Anna.

"They were talking about the baby," Thomas said, walking into the room, lighting a cigarette. His face was very smug as he knew that Bates and Anna were involved. Words couldn't describe how much he hated them.

Carson grumbled under his breath, sighing.

"Why, may I ask, is that of any interest?" he grumbled.

Anna shot a look at Thomas, who ignored it, and coughed uncomfortably. Bates kept his sharp look at Thomas, not breaking it when he sunk uncomfortably in his seat. Bates internally smiled, triumphant that he managed to make Thomas squirm. No-one said a word and dinner was served. Carson was still waiting for his answer but he knew that no-one would give him it from fear of being shouted at.

"Well? Will no-one answer?" he smiled and Daisy looked up, putting don her spoon. Anna and, surprisingly, Miss O'Brien looked up, a little shocked that Daisy decided to speak up.

"It's just that, there's not been a baby in the house for such a long time and everyone's really interested, surely you are too Mr Carson?" she asked, her voice very timid.

"I agree," Mrs Hughes piped in, sitting down at the table. The maids smiled, trying not to giggle at Carson's thundered expression. "A baby in the house is a wonderful thing and we should make the most of it, because I'm sure that when we see him again, he'll be much older,"

Everyone nodded; agreeing with Mrs Hughes built a wall against Mr Carson's negativity, enough of them against him would push it down, bending him cleverly to his will. Carson huffed, narrowing his eyes at Mrs Hughes. He hated losing little spats against her, everyone changed around him, giving sly smug smiles and still going against his will.

"So do we get to see him?" Daisy asked excitedly. There was no denying them now that Mrs Hughes had had her say and the fact that she went against him, Carson couldn't refuse.

"I'll ask them later if they'll bring the baby down," Anna offered. Daisy smiled widely, bouncing a little in her seat.

* * *

"So what's his name?" Rosamond asked her mother, sitting tall in the armchair. She drummed her fingers on her stick, waiting for her mother to answer. Violet turned to look at her daughter, frowning as she sensed her impatience.

"Christopher," She sat, her lips turning up slightly. She smiled at the thought of the tiny baby boy just a few rooms away.

"Nice name," Rosamond stated bluntly. Violet chuckled, she pitied her daughter. She could tell that she was sour that she was now a great aunt. Age was such a callous issue for Rosamond. Her mother could tell by her taught jaw and worried eyes that she feared becoming old.

"Oh yes," Violet smiled. "It suits him well,"

There was silence between them for a moment, apart from the ticking clock and the occasional servant's voice.

"When will they be down?" Rosamond asked. Violet sighed exasperated at her daughter.

"Why must you be so impatient? Of course it is going to take time for Sybil and baby to recover. Well, that is if you had children of course,"

Rosamond stared at her mother in disbelief. She had been through this many times with her mother and she was never happy with what she decided.

"Marmaduke and I didn't want children and thankfully none came. At least what I decided isn't as drastic as some." Rosamond said defiantly.

Violet knew that Rosamond was anything but subtle. She stood, walking away from the chair and toward the window. Looking outside she noticed Robert walking back up the drive. She relaxed internally, knowing that Sybil will be pleased that her father has returned.

"Now, I know who you are talking about and I believed the same at first but Sybil has made a choice and it seems to be the right one. I've never seen her so happy." Violet scorned. Rosamond rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Oh please Mama!" She exclaimed, tittering under her breath. "You can't be serious? How can she be happy with him? And also, how can you say that he is a better choice than Marmaduke was?"

"Now I never said-" Violet tried to reason but Rosamond was having none. She wouldn't let her mother speak until her mind was spoken.

"Now don't lie Mama, you've always battered him and here you are, cherring on a man who has a scrap of my late husbands money, reputation and world but you have no problem calling them, oh what was it, little people? Rather hypocritical Mama,"

By the end, Rosamond was standing angrily toward her mother. Violet had tried many times to speak but couldn't get a word past her daughters reeling mouth. It frustrated her as what she described wasn't the case…to a part.

"Now you listen-!" Violet begun, but was cut off by happy laughter and the door opening.

She would have said more on the matter when Mary and Matthew walked in, arms linked.

"Hello Granny, Aunt Rosamond," Mary smiled. Violet hastened over to her granddaughter, who looked very happy. Violet sat back in her chair,

"Hello dears. Now, what are you smiling about?" she asked, patting the sofa next to her for Mary to sit. The couple sat on the loveseat, their hands entwined on Matthews lap. Rosamond smiled proudly; this is the type of marriage her youngest niece should have, not scraping for food in a crumbling Dublin slum.

"Well, we have planned our honeymoon trip. We're going to London for a few days, then Paris and if we wanted we could continue around France." Matthew said, stroking the back of Mary's hand as she squeezed it excitedly. Violet passed a happy look to her daughter, who looked very…smug? She narrowed her eyes slightly at Rosamond when Mary and Matthew conversed.

"When are Sybil and the baby coming down?" Rosamond asked, leaning toward Mary. Mary sensed that there was some tension in the room when she entered but pushed it to the back of her mind. In that one question, it came apparent again as she, out of the corner of her eye, caught her grandmother make a face at her aunt. It looked to be one of shock and disapproval.

"They're all coming down very soon actually." She answered, smiling the odd feeling away. "Sybil's nearly ready and Tom said that Christopher woke not long ago; they wanted him to be awake rather than asleep. He's been sleeping a lot and they're rather worried."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Matthew murmured. "He's a baby, that's what they do. Thank you." Mary agreed, retrieving the two cups of tea for Matthew and her which were left on the small table.

"Surely they cry buckets; that's what I heard," Mary said.

Matthew laughed at this point.

When they had arrived, Tom and Sybil were placed in her old bedroom, which was grander in size compared to most bedrooms but was too small to accommodate for everything the baby needed so they had to be moved to a much bigger bedroom, which happened to be next to Matthews. For Mary to say that their nephew didn't cry was a tell-tale of her ignorance. That boy could scream if needs be, and most nights he did, causing many grumbles and groans to come from the awoken couple next door.

"Oh goodness!" Mary laughed. She could believe that Christopher made a lot of noise considering who his parents were. "Well, we must have you moved. I'll ask Mama if you can be moved closer to my room, there, as you may have picked up, you can't hear him,"

Matthew laughed again, and Mary became slightly confused, as did the two older women sat with them. All three ladies exchanged a brief look and when Matthew stopped he explained,

"My dear, you are a very heavy sleeper. I'm sure you wouldn't hear a train coming when you sleep," he smiled. "So I am positive that you can't hear him,"

All apart from Mary laughed; she just scowled at her husband, a scowl which turned in a wry smile as she knew it to be true.

* * *

"Is Papa back?" Sybil asked, knowing that he had left. She had managed to fit into the dress, Edith was a tiny bit shorter than she, and was now searching for shoes. Edith smiled and said,

"Yes, he came back about half an hour ago. Why?"

"No reason,"

Edith raised an unseen eyebrow and walked over to the crib to coo over her nephew. He was wide awake and gurgling loudly, his tiny fists grasping. Cora watched her daughter pick up the tiny baby, and wondered if she would ever be a mother. IT suited her well as it did her youngest; Mary would be a test of time. She didn't know if Mary would be maternal but as time progresses and hopefully more grandchildren come, Cora would know.

"Where's Tom?" Cora asked.

Sybil shrugged, smiling widely as she found some shoes that seemed to fit with her outfit.

"He's probably gone to do some writing in a quiet spot somewhere. He hasn't had the chance to at all." Sybil replied. In that moment, she tried to think of where he would go. There was the small study down the hall but she didn't think that he would have used it without asking; maybe he did.

"Are we ready to go down?" Edith asked, half to her sister and half to her nephew who was tucked into the crook of her neck.

Sybil sighed, placing her hands on her hips and looking around for any last minute forgotten details and objects that she may need. A blanket would be a good one, she thought as she went to the crib and picked it up, folding it neatly. She looked at the clock, quarter to three.

"I suppose. I'll go and find Tom first."

"There's no need, as I am here," he said cheekily, coming through the door with his black manuscript folder. She was right; he had been writing. He placed a kiss on her cheek and put away his folder before reaching for his son.

"Right, let's go now you're here. I guess we can't put it off any longer," Sybil tried to joke, but to everyone in the room it was no secret that she was scared. Cora stood from the armchair, rubbing her daughters shoulder reassuringly.

"It'll be alright darling, those who have met him are quite taken by him and if those who haven't follow suit then you have nothing to fear,"

Sybil smiled and, through random impulse, hugged her mother. Cora, though taken aback by the unseen gesture, felt tears come as she wrapped her arms around her youngest.

"Should we go?" Sybil heard Tom say to Edith, who laughed with him when mother and daughter broke apart, Sybil giving him an annoyed hard stare. She loosened it quickly as she recognised his playful smile which she couldn't stay mad at.

"Come on, lets go. We can't keep them waiting," Cora beamed, ushering them all out.

* * *

They all walked toward the drawing room, knowing that the family would be there. Cora and Edith went in first, smiling reassuringly at the new family.

"We'll call you in when we're ready," Cora said, pulling the door to rather than closing it. Out of sight of her mother, Sybil panicked.

"Tom, what if he cries? What if he doesn't like someone and bites someone-?"

Tom laughed and placed a finger on her lips to quiet her. She frowned, pulling away from Tom's hand and was about to speak again when her husband stopped her before.

"He's a baby, darling. They do cry. And if he does then we'll take him. Also, look in his mouth, he doesn't have teeth. How is he going to bite anyone?"

She thought about what he was saying and blushed at the knowledge. She couldn't understand why he was so serene and calm. He probably wasn't but he was very good at hiding it. He chuckled, pulling her close to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Don't fret. It'll be fine."

The door opened and the couple were called in. The whole family smiled as they entered, some commenting on how well Sybil looked and some wondering on what the baby would look like today.

"How are you dear?" The dowager asked Sybil.

"Much better thank you, Granny. I would have been down and about sooner but Tom wouldn't let me get out of bed," She answered, smiling slightly as she knew that Tom would make a face. There were giggles echoing around the room as Sybil turned to see Tom scowling at her. She laughed too, breaking his stormy façade.

"You're not funny. I only did that because that's what my Ma did with my sisters and it did them good." He defended.

"Quite right," Lord Grantham said, turning shocked faces from all the family. They all looked around at each other, until eyes rested on an uncomfortable Tom and Sybil. It felt strange to them to have Lord Grantham agree with them and be on their side. IT was as if they were living in a dream. Maybe he was coming around…at last.

"Do you want to see him again Papa?" Sybil asked quietly. He shook his head and said,

"Let the others who haven't first. I think it's only fair."

Sybil walked over to Matthew, who stood to look upon his nephew.

"So, this is the little chap that has woken me through the night." Matthew joked, taking him carefully from Sybil onto his shoulder. He noticed that Christopher was looking around as best he could, his blue eyes flickering to the people close to him and smiling when he saw someone he recognised. Matthew noticed the tufts of brown hair, resting wildly on the top of his head and Mary stroked them.

"At least you're quiet when you are awake." Matthew smiled and Sybil smiled guiltily.

"Sorry Matthew, we didn't think that he was that loud." She said and Matthew dismissed it, shaking his head.

They cooed over him for a little while longer. Aunt Rosamond didn't hold him; she was the only one not to. It hurts Sybil's feelings only a little as Aunt Rosamond had never been good with children, not even when she was a child. There was excited chatter and discussion of when they would be leaving, which they replied to as 'soon'; a tiny baby going all that way wouldn't be logical so they wanted to wait until he was a little bigger.

Robert noticed the fall in his wife's face, which quickly recovered and hidden away with a smile. He knew that Cora wanted to spend more time with Sybil as she hadn't seen her for months but before they knew it, she would be gone and she wasn't the only one to speak with her. He was about to speak up when Christopher started kicking, his face scrunching up and he began to whimper.

"I think he's going to cry," Matthew said nervously. He lifted Christopher up and just like magic the little boy set out a loud wail. Sybil scooped up her son, rocking him gently to soothe him.

"Are you going to christen him?" Edith asked, making the room fall silent apart from Christopher.

"We don't know yet," Sybil said.

This was a very delicate subject for them, both coming from different religions with different views and customs. They had decided to wait until they journeyed back to Ireland to come up with a solution.

Everyone nodded, not furthering the subject. Christopher started to cry again, making it clear that he had had enough of being shown off.

"I think he's hungry, I'll take him upstairs," Sybil said. The family reluctantly said goodbye to them and split to resume their afternoon activities before dinner.

* * *

Tom was about to leave when he was approached by his father in law.

"May I talk to you a moment?" Robert asked and Tom nodded, very confused. 'What had he done wrong now?' he thought. Robert took him to the deserted library, closing the door and offering him some scotch. Tom declined, saying that he was going to do some writing and needed a clear head.

"Is something the matter, sir?" Tom asked, sitting after his lordship. Robert coughed uncomfortably. He wished that Sybil was here so to calm her husband if he got a little riled.

"There is a delicate subject that I need to discuss with you, an Sybil but with you leaving soon its best that I don't leave it long," Robert said, looking anywhere but the young man sat in front of him. Tom nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"I need you to read these," Robert said cautiously, picking up the papers left by his lawyer. Tom took them and read them over carefully.

What he was reading was just…ridiculous. His son could inherit everything with a simple yes from him and Sybil? Stupid. Idiotic. Enraging. Tom could feel his anger creeping up to his hands and his face. He could feel his fists shaking, making the paper strain. He slapped the sheets down upon his chair after standing, turning away from his father in law so not to shout or say something that would gravely offend him.

"When did you find this out?" Tom asked.

Robert stayed sitting, knowing that it would keep his anger at bay.

"The day after Christopher was born,"

"You mean the day after you named him? You have to be joking!" Tom snapped incredulously. "You mean to tell me that you looked up legal rights to your fortune before actually seeing him?"

Robert knew that he deserved Tom's anger. He wondered for a moment what Sybil would think.

"I know that it was rather…unjust of me to do that-"

"Unjust! There is no justice on this earth that would put self interest before meeting your own grandson!" Tom shouted. Robert tried to calm him, knowing that the house would be able to hear him.

"Just think about it," Robert said. He could feel his own anger becoming prominent; though he kept it under control know that if he got angry, he would probably get hit.

"There's nothing to think about until Sybil knows, for now, you haven't told me a thing. And what's more-"

Tom stopped his shouting when the door creaked open, revealing a very angry Sybil with tears streaming down her face.

"I don't need to be told, your shouting was enough to tell me," she hissed through tears.

* * *

**A/N: Cliffhanger! ahaa!**

**I know that was mean but it would have been one hell of a long chapter! In the next chapter you'll find out why Tom and Sybil are so angry about the papers.**

**Please tell me what you think!**

**Cheerio!**

**J xxx**

* * *

**UNSIGNED REVIEW REPLIES**

**browneyes: Thank you! :D yes it was but I've decided to keep it, as you said, it was a fun angle :)**

**Duchess: Thank you! :D I know, I kind of do beat myself up about getting this wrong. Just do, I think it's school's fault... :P**

**Candy: Thank you! :D No! not at all! no comments hurt my feelings, they're people opinions and everyone's entitled to them! I'm not _that _sensitive :P what does upset me is when people don't say why they don't like something, them its just being spiteful or just nasty. **

**Thank you guys for reading and liking my story :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hellooo!**

**I know, I haven' been able to thank people personally for their reviews, I suck, well actually, my PM sucks. For some reason, its not sending! I will get around to it as soon as it decides to work again. But ill do a big shout out for you all now :D**

**THANK YOU FOR REVIEWS AND SUBSCRIPTIONS! :D :D :D **

**Enjoy :D**

* * *

_**Previously**_

_**"There's nothing to think about until Sybil knows, for now, you haven't told me a thing. And what's more-"**_

_**Tom stopped his shouting when the door creaked open, revealing a very angry Sybil with tears streaming down her face.**_

_**"I don't need to be told, your shouting was enough to tell me," she hissed through tears.**_

* * *

Tom stood frozen, staring at his wife, who was clearly broken and enraged. He took a step back, cautiously holding out his hands in-case she decided to run…or attack. Robert too, put down the papers and his glass, taking a step back to stand behind the chair, though he knew that the armchair would never stop his daughter hitting him.

The only time that he had seen her truly angry was when they argued, well screamed, at each other about her marrying Tom. Robert realised then how meek the anger had been compared to what he saw now.

It was the silence that disturbed him most; she said nothing. She walked forward toward them, standing in front of Tom, his wry hands holding her arms gently.

"Sybil-" Robert attempted quietly.

"Don't!" she snapped, her glare silencing him. Tom's grip on her became a little, just fractionally, tighter on her arms so if she decided to break free, with a bit more antagonism she probably would, he would be able to stop her.

"Darlin', you need to calm down," Tom whispered, trying to pull Sybil's gaze back to him rather than on her father. "Sit down,"

"No! I don't want to sit down; I want to know what's going on!" She shouted at him, breaking from his grasp and striding toward the table, picking up the papers.

"Read them," Robert said flatly, "Please,"

She growled under her breath, handling them roughly and scanning them quickly. She didn't want to read all of the details. She took what she read in and she felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. The papers told her of what Christopher would inherit; pretty much everything.

She found it sickeningly funny that after all this time and trying to get away from Downton, thinking a child would finally break the last tether connecting her there, only to be dragged back to it again. She didn't want this and by the sound of Tom's shouting he didn't want it either.

She let her tears fall, looking up at her father who sighed when he saw them. He was about to reach out the wipe them away when Tom turned her around, letting her rest her head on his shoulder; he wiped them away.

They stood in silence for a long time, not one of the men daring to say a word in fear of Sybil's capped raged. Her quiet tears then turned to cries, quite loud ones. Tom closed his arms around her tightly, kissing her temple and whispering in her ear.

Robert shifted uncomfortably, which didn't go unnoticed by his son-in-law, who frankly couldn't have cared less. If his father in law was uncomfortable with him comforting his wife, well…the words wouldn't really be appropriate.

"Come on, love," Tom murmured. "Let's-"

"Sybil!" Mary called from the doorway, her voice quite hurried.

Sybil sighed, kissing her husbands cheek and looking at her sister.

"Yes?"

"Christopher is crying. Mama is with him now but I think he needs you," she said, smiling slightly, no doubt uneasy from the subtext of her statement. Sybil nodded, not looking at her father when leaving. She still had the papers in her hands and Mary noticed not only the papers, but her tears and red raw eyes as she neared. She gasped, taking her sisters hand.

"So, he told you?" she asked quietly. Mary hoped for a collected response. Sadly, that was not mean to be.

"You knew?" Sybil snapped. "And I bet Matthew knew as well? Who else knows Papa, considering this should have discussed with me and Tom before anyone else!"

Mary and Robert stood stunned, failing to come up with any answer to calm her queries.

Tom scoffed, walking out of the door. He took the papers from his wife and gave her a look which silenced her argument. She nodded; snatching her hand from Mary's to follow him, leaving her father and sister without a word.

* * *

Lady Grantham rocked her wailing grandson, trying desperately to calm him. She had heard shouts coming from below in the library, most were Tom and Sybil's and she feared the worst from her husband. What had he done now to upset them? Edith and Anna sat and stood uncomfortably, trying their hardest to ignore the shouting. Soon it stopped and all was quiet.

"Maybe Mary's in there now," Cora said. Christopher was still crying out, either for food or his mother or both.

Edith nodded but when the shouted started again, they flinched. They head feet moving and soon it turned to stomping; they were coming up the stairs. Anna and Edith broke out of their frozen facades and busied themselves. Edith grabbed the small rattle Granny gave Christopher and began shaking it gently in front of him and Anna laid out night clothes.

Their voices became cleared and more distinguished as they neared and their heated conversation died down to low murmured and occasional sniffles. Cora gave a sad face to Edith who returned it. The door opened to reveal just Tom, holding some slightly ripped papers and a very dishevelled suit. They all stared at him in stunned silence not breaking until he spoke,

"She'll be in a moment,"

Christopher was still crying and Tom tossed the papers on the bed, taking his son from his mother in laws arms for some hope of comforting him.

"He's been crying for a while. So we called for you but then we heard shouting…" Edith said with careful words. Cora nodded as did Tom, trying to smile but only a weak one showed. The door opened again and Sybil entered, her eyes blotchy and red and her hands marked with the indents of her fingernails which tightly dug into her skin. She looked up from the floor, not meeting anyone's eyes, just focusing on the fussing child struggling in her husband's arms.

"Come here little one," she whispered and held her son close.

"Sybil?" her mother asked carefully, wondering whether she was treading on uncharted waters. After hearing the shouts from downstairs, no-one wanted to make the situation worse.

When her daughter said nothing, she nodded in hurt and in understanding and eyed Edith and Anna, hoping that they would catch on to leave. They saw the older lady's gaze and both left quietly, not to disturb the angry couple in the room.

* * *

Mary paced back and forth, not wanting to look at her father. She was to enraged the she had not been consulted on her fathers plans to tell Sybil and Tom about the lawyers papers. Of course, it really should have been the other way around; she shouldn't have been told until Tom and Sybil made their decision but her father in his infinite wisdom, thought it best to tell them first. He said that he was warning them. It seemed somewhat clear that he may just want to cause trouble…no that thought was absurd.

"You should have waited; given them one more night of sleep at least! Now they have to sleep on this, maybe even argue about it late into the night." She stopped pacing then and faced him. She placed her hands on her hips and shook her head in disapproval. "I have to say papa, bravo on your ridiculous timing. No wonder they hate it here. I wouldn't blame them for not coming back!"

There was silence until it was broken by the faint sound of the dressing gong, alerting them of the time and just how late it was. Mary left without a word, hurrying to her room to change.

She found Anna there, unusually quiet and serene. Mary smiled fondly but Anna only gave a weak smile back saying quietly,

"Evening Milady, I have your dress out,"

Mary frowned and then sighed, sitting at her dressing table.

"Have you seen them?" she asked. Anna nodded, looking rather grave. Though Anna didn't know what had happened downstairs, she had an idea and with Mary being involved, it couldn't be good.

"What did they say?" Mary asked quietly and rather sheepishly. This confirmed Anna's suspicions; Mary was involved.

"Not a lot really, I think they talked, rather argued about it on the way up. If I may say, Milady, Lady Sybil looked rather upset," Anna said, not meeting the daughters' eyes. "Her ladyship and Lady Edith still don't know what's going on as far as I'm aware,"

Mary couldn't contain her composure any longer. Tears began to form and emotions exploded inside her, making everything known to her maid and friend.

"Anna, I don't understand. Why would Papa tell them tonight and not in the morning? Today has been such a good day and it has been long awaited on and…I just don't understand." She whispered blankly.

Anna frowned, wondering if Lady Mary had gone mad. For her to be worried about her youngest sister's family and berating her father's actions was strange and unheard of for Lady Mary, for self interest and selfishness were what she seemed to pride herself in; though it wasn't a good reputation to have. Anna came to only one plausible conclusion, whether there was any truth in it or not; Mary was tired of her father's behaviour and has accepted her sister's decision.

Anna smiled inwardly, knowing that Mary's resistance was broken.

"I know, Milady, they seemed so hopeful. I'm sure they'll come around as well as his lordship,"

"Hardly," Mary scoffed. "I think that many are loosing faith in Papa for 'coming around' in all this."

She placed her head in her hands and sighed. She stayed still for a while before sitting up, her eyes now clear of tears and her mask back up.

"But you're right about Sybil and Tom; they'll come around eventually. Hopefully it's soon enough so we can hear their answer,"

Anna nodded, though she already had a feeling what their reaction and answer may be.

* * *

Tom had lost his appetite.

Of course, he was starving; it had been a rather trying afternoon and he needed sustenance but after all that had happened, food was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to sleep but it would do him no good as thoughts of the threatening papers would sweep across his mind.

He had bathed, hoping that would rid him of some anger that had pent up inside him but none quelled. Sybil said that it was because he was tired and under stress; he said it because of his Irish blood. He had seen many, even his Ma loose it a little when many others would probably keep it under control. He flopped onto the bed, grumbling to himself.

"I know," Sybil stated. "I want to sleep too,"

She only changed her jewellery; she didn't have enough energy to change completely and if anyone said anything... well they wouldn't in fear of being shouted at. She laughed quietly when Tom talked into the pillow, his words coming out as muffles. He turned his head, raising an eyebrow to ask her why her laughter. She shook her head, sitting next to him on the bed.

Christopher was asleep, thank goodness, so she didn't have to worry about him for the moment. She ran her fingers through Tom's hair, scratching his scalp every so often.

"Stop it," he mumbled, though a lazy smile was on his face. She giggled again, smiling a little. She ruffled his hair before removing her hand. He frowned, turning to sit and patting down his hair. He hated it being ruffled. His sisters used to do it so when they left or went anywhere, his hair would be unruly and wild, resulting in an undeserved scolding from his mother for poor presentation.

"Are you getting dressed for dinner? Or would you like to give Papa a heart attack with the way you're dressed?" she joked, poking his rib. He chuckled; going downstairs in just his trousers would be a funny thing to do, it would certainly lighten up the atmosphere from the angry on it was in, but this time, he chose to go with his better judgement.

"No, I think I'll change. You may loose your mother and grandmother as well," he said, smiling slightly. He gave Sybil a swift kiss before finding his shirt, wondering where on earth it could be.

She sat on the bed, looking worriedly at the papers resting on the small table at her bedside. She took them, sighing as she read them for the hundredth time.

"What are we going to do about this?" she asked quietly.

Tom didn't need to look at her to know what she was talking about. A low sound escaped his lips; it sounded like a growl and he yanked at his tie. He didn't want to talk about it but he knew that this would crop up again at dinner; they had to make some kind of decision.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't want to accept." He murmured. She nodded; wanting to agree but then shook her head.

"How are we meant to decide this? It's all…just…too much," She whispered. Tom turned to see her gazing at nothing, chewing on her lip thoughtfully, or in fear. He abandoned dressing himself and went to sit next to her, pulling her so her head rested on his shoulder. He noticed a tear fall; he wiped it away and kissed her hair.

"Shh, now. We'll find an answer for this…shit," he sighed, pushing away the papers.

"Tom!" she snapped, smacking his arm slightly as a scold for his language.

"Sorry, it's just the only way to express it. Well, the only way I could," he murmured. "You'd probably have a wonderfully fancy word."

She giggled a little, sighing tiredly after the chuckles had settled and snuggle closer to him. She relished in the silence for a moment, but a moment was all that it was. Christopher stirred, whimpering and then letting out a little yelp to let everyone know that he was awake. The parents groaned and laughed, knowing that there would be no such thing as quiet any more.

Sybil picked up her happily gurgling son, rocking him gently.

"Are you going to behave when me and Pa go down for some dinner?" she asked him, though she knew that no answer would come. He gurgled again, pulling on a lock of Sybil's long hair that he managed to grasp. It didn't hurt her, but it wasn't comfortable.

"Ouch, little one, stop," she said, prizing his small fist from her hair. Tom watched them and chuckled; he knew there and then that his son wasn't going to behave for them. He had finally tied his tie to as higher standard as he could and put on his jacket before picking up the papers.

"Should I take these?"

Sybil looked up and pondered. Her father may need their answer, thus meaning that he'll need the papers. Then again, it may not be mentioned; taking them downstairs would just make them a catalyst for disaster. She watched as Tom spun them in his hands slowly; he too no doubt having the same conundrum.

"Yes, but don't bring them up unless Papa talks about them," She answered.

Tom nodded and sat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. He would have brought her closer but with Christopher still nestled safely in her arms, it was hard. Their boy whimpered a little, but soon settled again in the new position.

A knock came at the door, disrupting the silence between them.

"Come in," Sybil called and Anna entered, holding a small envelope.

"A letter for you, Mr Branson," She smiled and left quietly after Sybil thanked her. Tom didn't recognise the handwriting, neither did Sybil.

"Who's it from?" she asked.

Tom shrugged and after a little wile of deliberating, he opened it.

_Tommy, _

_Hope you are well and Sybil too. I write to tell you something good. The big man from your work, Mr Hart, dropped by the other day to say that he wanted me to send this letter to you; I asked if it was good and he said that 'he wasn't at liberty to say'. I asked Cillian and he said that it meant that it was good. _

_We got your letter, well, Sybil's letter about Christopher. That's grand Tommy, really grand! I can't believe that I have a nephew! We all can't wait to see him, especially Ma. She was bouncing off the walls when we told her. _

_Come home soon, lad. We all miss you all._

_Lily_

Tom smiled and laughed at his sister's letter. He knew that his mother would be beyond excited to have another grandchild but that wasn't what clinched him. He looked again in the envelope, placing the other letter on the bed as Sybil asked him what was written. He felt like it was his birthday, rather eager to reach whatever may be inside. He ripped open the envelope, not caring for the destruction and clutter it made on the floor. He unfolded it and read it, trying to keep a happy smile from his face. He couldn't help but cheer and read aloud,

"Sybil! Listen; _'Dear Mr Branson,_ _I have the privilege to inform you that you have been selected for the job for lead investigative reporter, a large step up from the job you have now-'_

Sybil! I've bloody done it! I've bloody done it!" he cheered, continuing quickly. "'…_a large step up from the job you have now. I want you to come to the office to discuss your promotion as soon as your return. Congratulations, Mr Hart.' _I can't believe it! I got it!"

He laughed loudly and hysterically, kissing Sybil on the forehead forcefully; he would have picked her up if not for the now squealing baby in her arms. He sighed, flopping onto the bed, stroking his sons' cheek to soothe him. Sybil smiled, giving his cheek small quick kisses, leaving little lipstick marks on his face.

"Hey, shush Chris boy. You'd be cheering too if you knew," he smiled. Sybil still persisted, giggling a little at his expression. "Stop!" he whined, wiping his cheek. They laughed together, the papers temporarily forgotten.

"Sorry, but well done, darling. I can't believe it." She whispered. "Will we be able to buy the-"

Sybil started to get giddy. With the extra money saved up they could buy much more and with Tom's inevitable promotion bonus…She squealed quietly when Tom said,

"We'll see; when we get home. Though I could make a call; possibly; If your father would let me touch the phone."

Sybil rolled her eyes, smacking his chest lightly. She stood to place Christopher in his cot, tucking him in and kissing his forehead sweetly before pulling Tom toward the door to go down for dinner.

As always, Anna came to watch over Christopher as it, much to Tom and Sybil's bereavement, having a baby at the dinner table wouldn't be appropriate. Before closing the door, Sybil remembered the papers and Tom's latter; both of which the family would need to hear about. She returned to the room, gathering them, despite Tom's reluctance.

"Tom, about the letter, from Mr Hart, would we need to leave sooner than we wanted?" She asked.

Tom sighed, not knowing the answer. A knock came at the door, interrupting his thoughts and Anna poked her head around it.

"Dinner's ready, they're waiting for you," she said.

* * *

The whole family was there for dinner that night, making for a wonderful ambience. There was a casual chatter around the table, though the silence of Lord Grantham didn't go unnoticed.

"Something the matter, dear?" Cora asked him quietly. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping that his youngest didn't hear him. He knew that they would feel very smug at his discomfort being near them. But the truth was that they could feel the tension too, from more than one person. Matthew and Mary weren't abnormally quiet but they were chancing glances at the young couple and the head of the house.

"I'm fine," he dismissed her. She smiled but it didn't fool her. Cora knew that there was something wrong with her husband, whether it had anything to do with the shouting before, she didn't know.

She turned her attentions to Sybil, as she still wondered what she and Tom had brought down with them. They both gave her blank faces, trying their hardest not to look at Lord Grantham.

"They were…Well, one was a letter, that we'll tell you about after dinner and the other was the erm, papers Papa gave us,"

Mary scoffed, "Why on earth have you brought the down with you?"

"Because the letter I received today has changed our plans, you'll find out soon enough," Tom snapped back, causing a few of the families faces to cower away. Tom was getting sick of Mary's snobbish attitude and behaviour toward him and sometimes Sybil; to him, he could live with it but to her own sister was just disrespectful. His harsh comment was well believed and was doubled by Sybil's disapproving look at Mary.

The rest of dinner continued without conversation, just a silence that made the tension even thicker and held angry glares between one another.

The talk resumed again when drink were brought through, relaxing them all slightly and Cora taking the opportunity to ask Matthew and Mary about their temporary house to live in before Downton becomes available.

During the quiet murmuring, Sybil and Tom discussed his new job, excited by the new paths it would take them.

"So, how far are you below Mr Hart now?" she asked him.

"Not far, about two or three. I'm getting there, closer to the top," he said proudly. She smiled too as his face lit up with the most sincere smile she had seen in a long time. It made her happy to see him smile; with everything that was happening at home, their flat being raided, his brother's murder and all the rest, he'd been a little stressed out and upset with it all, it was a nice change.

"Did you call them? Please say you did," she whispered to him, trying not to smile or be heard by the others.

He nodded and she took his hand tightly, biting her lip so not to squeal in excitement.

"And?" She whispered.

"Yes," he whispered back and she wrapped her arms around him; he holding her just as tightly and laughing slightly at her outburst. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Sybil? What on earth is going on?" The Dowager asked her, confused and chuckling at the same time.

They pulled away, shocked and flustered, Sybil turning a little red but when they recovered, Tom stood up, taking his letter out of his back pocket.

"Today, I got a letter from my boss in Ireland. Turns out I'm getting a promotion-"

People started to smile and Matthew voiced his congratulations,

"Well done, Tom that's excellent," he smiled widely. Mary smiled to them, but rolled her eyes when she turned away to receive her drink.

"That's not all," Sybil said quietly. The others turned to listen to her; she stood too, taking her husbands hand. "We have been watching a house that's for sale in one of the nicer neighbourhoods and with Tom's new salary and bonus-"

"I called them up before dinner and made an offer; no-one else has done so we're well on our way to getting a new house. We're leaving tomorrow to finalise it all," Tom said, squeezing Sybil's hand, which clung tightly to him with hope.

* * *

Robert digested the news that they were buying a new house, one that, by their excited and elated faces, was much better than the one they lived in now. He nodded slowly, smiling slightly.

"Well done," he murmured, making Lady Grantham turn around and gasp in shock. Tom and Sybil too turned to look round at him, frowning slightly.

"Do you have those papers?" Robert asked them and Sybil nodded sadly. She retrieved them and gave them to her father, not meeting his eyes once. Did he really have to bring it up now when they were giving such good news? His next moved surprised Sybil. He placed the legal files on the fire, watching them burn in satisfaction.

"It seems that you didn't need these. I gave them to you as I was uncertain of your future to be able to provide a home for my daughter. I see now that I have been wrong from the very start. My apologises," He spoke to Tom only, though he acknowledged them both. He held out his hand once again, but Tom shook his head.

"Though, I should be thoroughly insulted for you to say that I wouldn't provide for my family, there's one thing I still don't understand. Shouldn't we get to choose whether Christopher inherits?"

Lord Grantham nodded, taking his hand down slowly, and placing it back in his pocket. He understood his, dear he think it, son in laws– yes, it felt right to say that now-questions.

"Yes but I'm sure, with all the resistance you both have been fighting for, you would have said no to it." Robert said, smirking a little.

Tom nodded, chuckling a little. He was right; they would have said no as it would have insulted them deeply and he knew that if he were his son, he would much rather stay with family and have a true life than with distance relatives with money and status and an illusion of life on the outside world.

He held out his hand to his father in law and Robert gladly took it, their handshake had much more conviction and meaning behind it this time. Robert knew that the gesture before, after Lavinia's funeral, was for Sybil's benefit; he didn't really approve but now, he meant it with his heart and soul.

* * *

**A/N: Finally! He has seen the light! Took him a while :P...**

**As you can see, by my wonderfully happy almost ending, this is coming to an end. The next one will be the last.**

**BUT!**

**I am going to do another when they return to Ireland and buy their new house and all that stuff. :D Don't know what to call it but I'm sure i'll come up with something! I might even just keep it in this story to keep it all together :)**

**Also! Loving the fact that you can see how many people have read and visited your stories now :D - ALMOST 10,000 FOR THIS ONE! :O **

**That's...insane. Seriously, THANK YOU to anyone and everyone who has read it even if you didn't review or whatever else - I write for you guys too!**

**Please tell me what you think!**

**Cheerio!**

**J xxx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hellooo!**

**This is the last chapter of this part of the story :( **

**But that means new story :D**

**Thank you again to everyone who reviewed and subscribed and I hope you read the other part that I will soon make :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

After the eventful dinner, Sybil and Tom retreated back upstairs, the huge stresses and weights on their shoulders completely gone. She rested her head on his shoulder as they turned the corner out of sight of the others. He kissed her hair and neither of them said a word; they were content in the silence.

But one thing still bothered her. Her father's handshake had been some sort of a party ploy; He and Tom had shaken hands in reconciliation before but it was all lies. Was now any different?

"Tom?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think my father meant the handshake? I mean, last time, I thought he did but he didn't," She sighed.

He stopped them, looking at her properly.

He noticed that, even though there were faded black circles under her eyes and little red specks dotted around her face, she was different. He could see that since having Christopher and coming back here, it had changed her only slightly. Though her eyes were soft, they held a new authority behind them and her mouth had a conviction that, if something needed to be said, she wouldn't hesitate. He then wondered if her slight changed had occurred much earlier.

What he didn't notice was that he had been staring at her for quite some time.

"What?" she giggled. He chuckled too, stroking her cheek.

"I-Just looking at you then, I noticed. You changed, you look different. You're still beautiful, of course, but I can see it. You're different,"

She smiled; taking the hand that stroked her face and placed it flat against her cheek, holding it there.

"Ireland's changed me. You've changed me. I don't think you're the only one to notice either." She said back, leaning her head into his hand. He brought up his other hand to gently hold her head between his hands, kissing her soundly on the lips. She grasped his shoulders, kissing him back with the same force and passion.

It had been a rather long time since either of them felt like this, and though they were at her parent's house and their new friendship was still on shaky ground for now, the temptation was just irresistible. When they pulled away, Tom gave her a little wink, making her giggle quietly and go to nibble on the soft skin of his neck. He groaned, unwillingly detaching himself and opening their bedroom door in haste, kissing her again and trailing kisses down her neck as he pulled her into their bedroom.

"Ahem," a voice came from behind them. A woman's voice laughed as the couple went completely red faced, Sybil hiding hers away in Tom's chest.

"Sorry Anna, I forgot you were here," he mumbled, embarrassed. She laughed again, shaking her head. Anna had never seen the pair of them speechless and she savoured the moment; they always had witty ploys for everyone's questions.

"Christopher's asleep," she said, still a humoured smile on her lips. "He's in the other room; I left it open a crack so you can hear him. Goodnight," She was chuckling by the end of her sentence.

She walked over to leave and whispered quietly, "I won't tell, don't worry,"

They both chuckled uneasily, nodding and murmuring thank you. After she left, they burst out laughing, flopping onto the bed, cuddling each other closely.

"I can't believe we forgot Anna," Sybil whispered.

"I know, poor lass!" he chuckled.

Though they didn't see Anna's reaction to their obvious intention, they knew that she would have been shocked before her laughter. Tom felt his wife, stroking and dragging her nails lightly down his neck; she was over the embarrassment then, he thought. It tickled him lightly and he started to laugh, suddenly turning, making her give a surprise yelp and kissed her, feeling his jacket and shirt being pushed off him.

* * *

Lord and Lady Grantham readied for bed, Cora sat at her dressing table and Robert reading a book in bed.

"I can't believe they're leaving tomorrow, it's certainly been an eventful visit. Hopefully they'll come again, do you think so Robert?"

He scoffed, putting down his book and saw his wife's smirk,

"My dear, please stop treading on eggshells, just say it-most of it was my fault, I know," He sighed, picking up his book again, hoping to distract himself from her scolding. He already knew what was coming; she would tell him that he should have been nicer and that he should have put his petty quarrels aside and welcomed them like he should.

"You're right; it is your fault for all of this. I don't understand why you couldn't just be honourable and try to befriend him? You speak about honour but it comes down to it you never give Robert," she sighed, standing to get into bed.

There was silence for a while as Robert considered what she said. It was exactly what Tom said in the inn when he tried to bribe him to leave. Robert believed that he was honourable but maybe they were right; he just spoke and never took action.

"However, what you didn't tonight shocked me. Did you mean it Robert? Have you finally accepted it?" Cora begged. She had been hoping this whole visit that he would accept their youngest daughter's marriage.

Of course, she was a little resistant at first but when she came around and got to know him properly, she liked Tom. She liked the idea of them being together; it reminded her of her sister in America. She married for love and though they aren't as rich as she is, they are happy in their marriage that no-one or nothing could keep them apart.

"Yes, I didn't mean it. You were right. Tom was right, as always it seems. You know more than I do but, does he care for her? Is she happy?"

Cora looked up at him with raised eyebrows and chuckled.

"Do I really need to answer the question?" she smiled and he shook his head and sighed, putting his book back on the side table next to him and held his wifes hand.

"No, you don't. Are they really leaving in the morning?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose they need to take Christopher back home, fins their house, get his job set up, goodness, their life is so busy." She said surprised at the amount her daughter and son in law had to do. How on earth did they have the tome to come here? Robert turned of the switch of the lamp n his side and said,

"No wonder she loves him. She's always loved excitement."

Cora laughed, thinking of some memories from Sybil's childhood.

"Our jumpy child,"

Robert laughed and asked her to turn out the other light to go to sleep. They would be up early in the morning.

* * *

All the arrangements were settled and Tom, Sybil and their son were getting the 10 o'clock train from Downton to Holyhead. The train ride was longer but the boat was much shorter, making it more comfortable for Christopher. Tom made two trips up the stairs, bringing down the suitcases to the car to be packed up and placed on the back. He helped Bates, who insisted that he could do it but Tom knew better.

"John, you know that you'll put out your knee. Just let me help you out, you never minded before."

Bates chuckled and said lowly, "You were the chauffer then and this one is completely useless. Couldn't lift a feather if he tried," Bates nodded toward the new chauffer.

They both laughed a little and continued placing the suitcases on the car. Tom had missed John since returning home; even during the visit he didn't see him a lot.

"Will you return soon?" Bates asked him, pausing slightly to speak. Tom pondered this thought. He would have to talk to Sybil about returning but he was positive that they would. He was almost certain that the others would come and visit them, but he wasn't sure.

"Hopefully, maybe we will. I'll have to ask my lass over there but I'm sure she'll be fine with it. Let's just hope that you're still here," Tom said, loading the last of the suitcases down with them onto the car. He sighed, leant against them.

"Done," he smiled. He was about to go and get Sybil, to say their last goodbyes when he remembered another suitcase was in Sybil's room.

"No not done, there's one more. Go inside, I'll get it; I think you need a rest,"

"Thank you Tom, safe journey back lad," he smiled and patted his shoulder. "Will you miss this place?"

Tom chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels slightly.

"The people more than the place; if they lived anywhere else it'd still be the same," he sighed. They both looked at the large house, admiring it and wondering what would the future bring for them.

* * *

Sybil, meanwhile, was upstairs with her mother, sisters and Granny. They all had mournful faces and their voices were fleeting; they were all sad to see her go again.

"Do you have everything?" Cora asked her as Sybil was pacing around the room, double checking for anything that could have been dropped or left behind. She would coo over her son, gurgling happily in the crib with a rattle that Granny had given her to give to him. The bells on it jangled and pealed, making him make little happy noises.

"Yes, I think so. He likes this, don't you? Thank you, Granny." she asked, stroking his little head.

"It appears so and you're quite welcome dear. He'll need something to entertain himself on that horridly long journey." She said, sighing sadly.

There was a moment of silence and Sybil closed the last suitcase. She smiled, huffing out a satisfied breath with finishing her task. She sat down on the bed for a moment, looking around her bedroom one more time.

"Will you come and visit us?" Sybil asked. She knew that this time she may have more chance of a positive answer and she knew how much her in laws wanted to meet her parents. Mrs Branson was quite insistent.

"Of course, darling. We will all come and we'll be able to see your new house," Cora smiled and the others nodded. Violet was quite resistant.

"What's wrong Granny?" Sybil asked a little hurt by her grandmother's look of discomfort.

"My dear, it's a long way for me to go and I'm old. If there was some way for me to fly over there by some miracle, I would come but alas dear, age is a horrid thing. It stops you from doing what you want. I'm afraid I cannot." Violet sighed, patting her youngest granddaughter's hand. Sybil smiled and understood her grandmother predicament.

They did live a long way away but it was home.

"When we, if we, move into our house, I'll send you a letter and pictures. Tom will be able to borrow a camera from work so it'll be no problem," Sybil said. "I'll talk to Tom about visits- I know that his mother wants to meet you," she said to her mother. Cora laughed, "Goodness! What is she like?"

Sybil chuckled along with Mary and Edith. They knew exactly what Rosaleen was like.

"She's like, well, you Granny." Sybil smiled and they all began to laugh.

"Then I am in trouble. I must make sure to be nice." Cora sighed, still laughing.

A knock came at the door and it was Tom, wondering whether he could collect the last suitcase and tell his wife that it was time to go.

"I'll see you in a minute," she said quietly, kissing his cheek.

The others followed Tom outside to the car as Sybil hung back a little, looking around her room again. She remembered everything that had happened in their visit; her father bursting into the room, shouting at her and Tom for sleeping in the same room – thank goodness he didn't know what they did last night- she remembered giving birth to her son, though the pain wasn't exactly the best of the times.

Though there had been some very bad times during their visit, their son coming along and their father finally accepting her marriage made it all worth it. She picked up her son, still holding his rattle, and pulled on his tiny bonnet to keep him warm, and went downstairs to leave.

* * *

"Have a safe trip, the both of you and call us when you get to Holyhead so we know where you are," Cora begged and hugged her daughter one more time. Tom was talking to Lord Grantham and Matthew, promising to write to them and tell them of updates from their own home and anything political. It surprised Tom to hear Lord Grantham telling him that he and Lady Grantham would come and visit them soon. He even gave them a date in September. Something about after the season, Tom didn't really know.

"Tell us of what's going on over there. I think it'll help us to understand it better, having someone on the inside." Matthew said and Tom nodded, shaking his hand.

"Goodbye sir," Tom said, extending his hand. Robert nodded once and smiled,

"Goodbye Tom, have a safe trip and good luck,"

The shook hands once again in goodbye and Tom left to retrieve his wife and son.

They both got into the car, Sybil taking a last look behind her at her family and her house. She placed her son properly on her knee so he was sat, the rattle still grasped tightly in his fist. She wrapped her arms and a blanket around him, keeping him warm and secure.

She looked out to the looming house towering over the car and wondered when she would be back again. She hoped that Christopher would be much older and maybe have a little girl to join them. But the one thing she hoped for the most was that her husband would still be around. With things worsening in Ireland, and his strong mind wanting to fight, she knew that he may get himself into trouble sooner or later; she hoped he wouldn't.

The door opened in front and, to their surprise, Edith got into the drivers seat; Tom widened his eyes and subtly grasped onto the chair.

"Are you driving us?" Sybil asked, masking her worry.

"Yes, I said I would and Mary's coming too," She said, checking all the pedals and leavers. Tom saw Mary come out of the house and sit in the front seat; a sight he has never seen in his life.

"Do you want to sit in the back, Mary?" he asked, wary for her safety and putting her nose out by having to sit in the front.

"No, I'm fine," Mary smiled. "I've sat in the front of a car before you know, with Matthew,"

Tom nodded, smirking slightly at Sybil; this was Edith driving not Matthew. Though he had never driven in a car with Matthew, he trusted that he could drive safely, whereas Lady Edith was a different matter. He had taught her; he knew that places she struggled and, frankly, he was terrified of her driving.

Sybil took his hand for a moment and smiled at him, trying not to laugh.

"Very well, then," he said, wary of what was to come.

"Are you ready to go?" Edith asked, smiling at them. She had the car poised and ready; the rest of the family just outside the car.

"I think we'd better had, else we'll miss our train," Sybil said and the car pulled away, jittering slightly before purring constantly, the jittering making Tom wince and Mary squeak in fear.

Lady Grantham waved as the car pulled away, something she rarely did. Tears began to fall and she was the last to enter Downton again as the car vanished into the distance.

* * *

"Edith? Are you sure you can manage?" Sybil asked. Being the only man there, and having only two hands, Tom couldn't carry all of the suitcases to the car and Edith said that she would carry some as Mary would never lift a heavy thing and Sybil was carrying Christopher.

"I'm fine Sybil," She said, a little breathless. Edith, in truth, was struggling a little. She knew that she would have been bright red in face and the strain visible. One case was heavier then the other and it pulled mightily at her shoulder. She watched as Tom effortlessly picked up the heaviest suitcase from her, leaving her with one and him with three, and carried them to the train as if they were feather light.

"Really? Are you sure you're well?" Mary asked, not reaching out to help her, just staying still.

"Yes Mary, I'm fine," Edith said through her teeth. "Though I don't see you helping."

"They don't need my help; they have you," she retorted, and Edith rolled her eyes and walked away from her sister, who smirked and cover her mouth to disguise her chuckles.

Mary walked up to her youngest sister, wrapping her arms around her, rather forcefully.

"Goodbye Sybil." She choked, squeezing her tightly whilst being wary of her precious nephew wedged between them. "And such good luck,"

Sybil kissed her sisters cheek in goodbye and sighed sadly. She was going to miss her sisters. This time leaving felt different than before; it felt that this time there was more hope that her family would visit, whereas before, it may have been goodbye forever.

"Goodbye Mary, I'll miss you. I'll call when we get to Holyhead." She said quietly through her tears.

Mary kissed Christopher on his head and whispered her goodbyes to him. When Sybil walked toward Edith, Mary pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed away some fallen tears. Tom came over then, pulling her into a silent hug, which she gracefully took.

"Be careful for goodness sake," Mary hissed to him and he chuckled, nodding.

Edith's goodbye was, too, tearful and Sybil had a steady stream of tears by the time they boarded the train. Tom wrapped his arm around her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

"Don't cry, love, you'll see them again. Sooner than expected I'll bet," he said, soothing her. Christopher was laid, sleeping, all wrapped up warmly in a basket that the train managed to give them for him.

The whistle blew sharply and loudly, making steam billow over the sides of the train, telling them that the train was about to pull away. She waved out the window as the train crawled out of the station, letting Downton disappear and their long journey home to Ireland began.

* * *

**A/N: First part over :( I hope you all enjoyed it!**

**Sorry of the baby basket wasn't accurate; I looked and looked and I couldn't find anything - Google isn't that great :(**

**I will be writing another part to this- I said I would- I may have it in this story or I may make a completely new one, i don't know yet. **

**Thank you for reading again! :D and you'll be hearing from me soon **

**J xxxx**

**OTHER REVIEWS-**

**Duchess: Yeah I know, everything had to be okay before they left. They needed more of a reason to leave early than just going home - you may eat your words .. will it be good news? I hope you'll read the other part :) J x**


	11. Part 2: Chapter 1

**Hellooo!**

**I'm back XD **

**I said this wasn't done yet! Just the first part! I know that many people read this because of them returning to Downton - not many of them knocking about - and now this part shifts focus on them going back to Ireland. **

**The format will be the same - sort of - and the other characters will return and plenty that are my own. ****I know that correct information is going to come back to haunt me - the internet isn't that great for info on events that happened almost 100 years ago and I discredit Wikipedia.**

**Anyway, negative bit all done now :D, I hope this is good.**

**_Summary for Part 2:_  
**

**_The once two, now three, Branson's return to Ireland and to Tom's family. Living in peace for a while made them forget the danger and trouble there and it has worsened since returning and after fighting so hard to be together, Tom and Sybil agree to keep out of trouble, even though it is on every turn. As the worst of the trouble approaches, will they be able to keep the trouble at bay? _**

**Enjoy :D **

* * *

"Ma! MA! For goodness sake, where are you?" Lily shouted, rapidly moving around the house for her mother. She didn't go out much so her mother couldn't be far. After looking in all the rooms she found nobody to be home, even though the front door was unlocked. She sighed and groaned at her mothers' carelessness; 'anyone could just wander in here!' she thought.

She wanted to tell her Ma that she had a letter from Sybil, her sister in law, telling her, well them, that she had had her baby whilst staying at her family home and that they would be coming back soon.

She loved her sister in law; she was kind, thoughtful – a few years older than herself - and the right antidote for Tom's sometimes very stupid and impulsive behaviour.

Lily placed the letter on the table next to her mother's armchair and took away dirty crockery to be washed. She placed her coat on the coat peg in their kitchen and pulled on her apron, which desperately needed washing. It had stains and allsorts splattered all over it but there was no point in washing it; it would just get dirty again.

With Lilly being the youngest of the lot, the lot being 7, she still lived at home with her mother. She could feel her mothers' angst with her still living there but she had no skills to get a job and most of them were given to men. Lily constantly told Sybil that she was lucky to have a job and to have the skills to keep one. Also, she didn't have a husband; she had a little love, Damien, but that was as far as their relationship went though she wished it wasn't.

She looked and growled at the amount of washing her mother had left, muttering under her breath. After cleaning up, she clocked the time – almost midday – and began to make lunch.

A loud bang told Lily that her mother was back from…well, wherever she went.

"Lillian!" she hollered. "You in, girl?"

Lily hated it when her mother used her full name but she and anyone else who used her shortened name usually got a smack, so, she just went with it.

"Yes, Ma! Something for you on the table," She shouted back. She left the stock simmering and walked out to lean against the door to the front room.

She saw her mother settling down in her armchair, putting her hat on the table and taking out the offending clip which painfully held up her long blonde hair. At 41, Rosaleen Branson still had the majority of her blonde hair and was rather thin for a woman of her age. She said that down to raising her seven children; something which made most women larger than she, and hard work.

She had trained to be a nurse in her day, and though she couldn't get a job through having children young, she still was in the eyes of her street. She would do anything from seeing to sick children to helping women who have just had babies. Many on the street held her with great respect and showed her that she had many friends.

She unfolded the letter from the table and read it, recognising instantly her daughter in laws beautiful hand.

"Dear Lord!" she exclaimed. She sat forward, crossing herself and looked completely gob smacked at her youngest. "When did this come?"

"Today. I ran straight here to tell you but you weren't in and you left the door unlocked! After all the raids and thievin' don't you think it's a good idea to lock it?" Lily said, slightly and carefully reprimanding her mother. At 16, she still ran the risk of getting a smack for being disrespectful.

Rosaleen shrugged and shook her head.

"There's no point dear. If they're going to get in, they can let themselves in. I don't want them smashing down my door. I'd much prefer to keep the cold out than have most of this stuff." She sighed, relaxing back into her chair.

Lily nervously chewed on her lip, moving closer to her mother and said,

"Most of its Da's though. Wouldn't you want to keep it safe?"

Rosaleen cast a very frosty look to her daughter and said nothing. She didn't like talking about her late husband, even though he died 17 years ago, the pain was still there.

"'Course. But I wont stop them getting in," she said harshly. Lily regretted taking her mothers mind off the good news from her brother.

"Good news though, isn't it, Ma?" she said warily and her mother smiled weakly. She turned the letter in her fingers and sighed,

"Suppose it is."

* * *

Sybil, of course, rang back to Downton to say that they had reached Holyhead and would be leaving soon. She cherished the call as it would be the last time she heard her mothers' voice for a long time, well, hopefully not a long time.

"_Well, I hope it's a good journey over darling, stay safe." _Cora said, quite tearfully, Sybil could hear.

"I will Mama, thank you again for letting us stay. It has certainly been eventful. I'll write to you soon, Goodbye, Mama,"

"_Good, make sure you do. I'm excited to hear all about it. Goodbye dear."_

The phone clicked and Sybil rested the earpiece back on the box, sighing sadly before turning around to go back to her husband, leant against the wall. Poor Tom, he was stood, looking after all the suitcases and holding his son, keeping him entertained and stopping him from crying.

"You look like you have your hands full," she smiled, ignoring the tear that fell. She took Christopher from him, letting him pick up two of the suitcases to be placed on the boat.

Christopher was wide awake, looking around him and sporting the constant frown that was on a baby's face.

"You're going to go home now, Christopher," Sybil cooed to him. "You're going to see all your aunts and uncles and your Nan who'll love you very much,"

She tried to get him to smile, by smiling widely at him and kissing him cheek. But nothing. This lad just never smiled.

"That's all the cases ready to be loaded. Shall we?" Tom said, coming up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked around her to see them all gone. When did he do this? She nodded, letting him lead her toward the boat where a large throng of travellers waited to get on the boat.

The sea could have been kinder, though it could have been worse. Sybil stayed below decks inside for the majority of the journey, keeping her son out of the cold and random falls of rain. He had been a little jumpy and very unhappy; he was crying and whining a little, putting many passengers on edge; annoyed whispers and dark, disapproving looks coming her way.

She noticed how all the women who were sneering were without children, so had no experience of the hard work; Sybil herself hadn't know of the hardships truly, only being a mother for a month, who could? Ha! Such fools, ignoramus twits, she thought to herself.

She felt the boat swell to the side suddenly, making her stomach shift uncomfortably and Christopher whine out again; no doubt he is experiencing the same discomfort. The light patter of the rain turned to heavy thuds and the doors to the upper decks began to open, bringing dishevelled and bedraggled passengers downstairs. Tom was one of them, taking of his hat and shaking his hair, splattering water around a little. Sybil made a face, little droplets landing on her face and laughed as his hair was unruly and all over his eyes, even though he was wearing a hat.

"I know, very funny," he said, sarcastically. He pushed his hair back and sat down next to her on the bench. He stroked his son's cheek and wrapped a wet arm around his wife, which was soon discarded.

"Tom, you're all wet. No," she scolded and smiled, playfully picking up his wrist between her first finger and thumb, melodramatically throwing it away from her. Tom chuckled and leant his head against the post behind them, closing his eyes.

"How much further have we left?" she asked.

"About an hour,"

"Oh, my poor dear, he's desperate to get to land. He doesn't like sea travel much," Sybil sighed, stroking Christopher's head and giving it small kisses. The boat swelled again and their son whimpered and burst into tears as the rocking and swelling became worse and dominated for about 45 minutes.

"Tom, what are we going to do about the flat? I mean, we won't be able to go back there," Sybil asked. Tom was confused; why wouldn't be able to go back to their flat, back to their home?

"What?"

"Our flat was broken into remember? And they didn't steal anything meaning…" she reminded him but she couldn't finish the sentence. She couldn't find the words. She felt as if saying them would confirm their danger…wherever or whatever it was. He nodded, remembering his Ma's letter.

"Well, I suppose Ma will put us up. Not for long though." He sighed. "Maybe she'll put up with us long enough for us to get enough money for our house."

"Hmm," she agreed. They had imposed on his mother for long enough before they were married; she did want them to over stay their welcome, though she had a feeling that Mrs Branson wouldn't mind; she would have her newest grandson living with her. Speaking of their son, he was still wailing and throwing his arms around slightly.

"Please Christopher, please stop crying," Sybil begged, slowly giving up. The rain didn't cease either and herded all the passengers into the lower decks, making the last league of their journey too warm and unpleasant.

* * *

The uniformed men marched and stood guard as the boat came to port. They held their guns and other thuggish weapons to their sides, watching through slitted eyes as the passengers disembarked. Some watched and smirked as women pulled children away from them and others kept themselves to themselves. They could tell which ones of the large horde were native to the country; they were the ones that were terrified, wary of their actions and kept their heads down and never made eye contact with them.

"They're obviously waiting for someone," Tom whispered to Sybil, who held Christopher so close to her that she wished he would disappear beneath her skin, safe and protected. She nodded, keeping her eyes ahead, daring to chance a glance at them. She guessed that they, not the soldiers on the dock specifically, but the Black and Tans that raided their home. Sybil hated them and their brutish behaviour.

She had witnessed them beating up several people, young men mostly, for the littlest of things and if she or anyone tried to help them, you were automatically involved; meaning that you joined them, stood against the wall, arms up and the sharp knifes at the end of the rifles pointing at you.

They reached the piles of luggage, all with the paper tags attached to them. Tom sent Sybil to stand at the tram station, so she would be safe- er - and inconspicuous. He struggled as others were pushing and shoving to get to their cases, so much so that he gave up, standing aside until the crowd subsided a little, making it easier to get in.

This also gave him a clear view of what happened next.

Raucous shouting came from behind him on the port and the Tans had obviously found who they were looking for. Poor bugger, there was nothing anyone could do for him as no one else wanted to be hurt.

"Bloody thugs," Tom grumbled.

"You got that right," a man said next to him, clearly Irish, shaking his head and taking away his suitcase.

He tried to block out the noise of the names the Tans were calling the poor sod taking his beating because they hurt him too, because no doubt, they were the same. Feinian fuckers, Irish twats, and worse, all cut through him, making him angry. The angry thoughts tamed as Tom managed to find their cases, juggling them between his two hands and managed to make his way over to his wife.

"Let me carry one, you'll only have three then an- don't look like that! I'm just trying to make it easier on you!" Sybil said, though smacked Tom lightly on his shoulder when he made a disapproving face at her saying, 'only three'; they were bloody heavy them suitcases! He smiled slightly as she sighed, listening to her giggle as she picked up a case.

"We are in desperate need of a pram, or something to put him in," She said, struggling to hold him with one arm. Tom shook his head and reached to take the case she was carrying; she couldn't handle it with having to hold Christopher at the same time.

"Hold on, I'll call Cillian's street and ask him to pick us up, it'll be far easier than the trams." Tom said, putting down the cases next to her and moved toward the phone, quick enough to beat the man casually walking toward it too.

"Ha," Tom sneered quietly to himself and dialled. He turned around so he could see Sybil and everyone else on the platform, looking out for trouble like a hawk.

"_Hello?" _a woman answered.

"Hello? I'm looking for Cillian please at number 56. I'm his brother, Tom."

"_Oh hello Tom, don't worry, I'll get him."_

A long pause stretched out as the woman, whoever she was, fetched his brother from his house to the outside phone. His brother loved on a nice street, one that came with a phone booth that people could ring to call anyone on that street. Of course, with it being outside, other jokers would answer it sometimes.

"_Hello?" _His brothers deep voice came from the other line.

"Cillian? It's Tom. I wonder if-"

"_Tom! How are ya? Wait-how are ya callin' from over the water? What did ya do to the phone Tom?"_ his brother cried back. Tom couldn't stop the smile that crept onto his face. He could picture his brother's confused face with precision. He also found it funny that his considerable younger brother tried to tell him off.

"No, look, just shut up and listen. Me and Sybil have just got off the boat back and, well, we're a little heavy handed – I'll explain- and I was wondering if you had the car to pick us up?"

Tom knew that it was a long shot for his brother to do anything for him but when he agreed to come and get them, probably because Sybil was with him and his brother adored her, Tom thanked him profusely, saying that he be the first to see his nephew.

* * *

Cillian appeared some ten minutes later, waving his arms about like a complete fool to get his brothers and sister is laws attention. They still hadn't noticed him so the next solution was shouting at them; there was no way he would leave the car unattended, especially with al these people loitering about.

"TOM!" he shouted out of the car. Thankfully, his brother heard him on the third shout, making Cillian get out of the car, meeting them a little further ahead of it to take two of the cases.

"Hello brother, hello Sybil," he greeted cheerfully, loading the two cases onto the back.

"Cillian!" Sybil smiled and walked toward him to give him a hug. He laughed loudly, gently squeezing her back as he noticed the tiny baby in her arms.

"Someone's happy to see me," he said, winking at Tom, who just scoffed and laughed soon after Sybil smacked his brother on the arm.

"Now don't flatter yourself; I've missed you that's all," she joked and hugged him again.

"Well I'm glad to hear it," he smiled. "Though I am a little sad I missed this. What's his name?" Cillian looked down on the tiny babe, gently cooing over him. He confirmed to himself that his eyes didn't deceive him; this was his brother's kid. Looked just like him, eyes and everything, apart from the hair. Dark as night it is, just like his mothers.

"Christopher,"

"Good name," Cillian said. He smacked his hands on his thighs and declared that they were leaving, helping Sybil climb into the back with the cases whilst he and Tom sat in the front.

"You going to Ma's or your flat?" he asked, watching as the couple exchanged sheepish looks and worried stares. He didn't want to ask because he already knew; Ma had obviously sent them a letter saying that their flat was broken into. He wondered if she said who it was done by...she probably didn't…which was good.

"Ma's then? Since your flat isn't safe with it being broken into."

"You knew about that?" Tom asked. Stupid question, of course his brother would know.

"'Course I knew!" Cillian exclaimed, laughing at his older brother's stupidity. So he decided to make a good dig at it. "Going dozy in ya old age Tom? I was there when the landlord told Ma,"

Tom nodded and scowled at his unfunny joke. Tom wasn't old; he wasn't even thirty yet.

"Ma's then," Tom said, smacking his bothers leg hard; half for saying that he was old and half to make him watch his speed as he had heard Sybil squealing in the back a few times when they turned a corner.

* * *

The car passengers pulled up and parked up near to the few steps to Mrs Branson's semidetached house. She was on the end of the street, giving them more room to park the car and a bigger garden. Just as well, they were a big family. Sybil knocked on the door whilst the men agreed to get out and carry in the suitcases. She heard shuffling inside and the shout,

"Lillian! Door!"

Sybil chuckled, her mother in law rarely opened the door and when she did, she was very irritated by the small job. The door opened to reveal Lily, her sister in law, who squealed in delight and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Hi Lily! Careful of Christopher!" Sybil greeted, trying her best to peel herself out of Lily's grip.

"Oh! Sorry!" she smiled widely, her tight blonde curls bouncing as she rocked on her heels, excited to see her nephew for the first time.

And as if on cue, Mrs Branson poked her head around the door of the kitchen, frowning which then turned into a large smile.

"Who is it Lil-Sybil dear! Oh welcome back, come in don't just stand in the doorway! Where's my grandson?" she gushed enthusiastically. Sybil felt her wrap her arm around her shoulder, guiding her to the small sofa in front of the fire to sit.

The living room was just as she had remembered; not extensively large but big enough to fit in all the family if a few stood and some sat on the floor. Thank goodness for the rugs. She still had the battered sofa which was old when her mother in law gave it to Rosaleen and her husband when they first married and she still had the two armchairs, which only she and someone she invited to sat in, for the second was her husbands' chair.

The men then trudged through the door, holding the entire luggage between them, hissing harsh words to one another.

"Come on Cillian! Get through the fecking door!" Tom sighed as his brother tried to get through the small doorway with both cases, which of course is never going to fit. Tom noticed his mother and his sister cooing over his son and his wife, and the need to make their presence known was prominent.

"We've all the suitcases, we're grand thanks girls." Tom said, rolling his eyes and setting them down on the floor.

"Oh quiet you!" his mother chuckled and stood, extending her arms to her eldest son. "Tommy! Fáilte mo pháiste!"

Tom greeted her back, in Gaelic of course, and managed to pick her swinging her around a little making her squeal.

"Tom you daft lump! Put me down!" she demanded, though she was still laughing. The others too laughed, knowing how much Tom loved his Ma, a little more them the others.

He was old enough to understand what had happened to his father and it landed to him to take care of his mother and his siblings, making him the well deserved favourite among the children. Of course, when they were younger, many fight ensued to why Tom didn't have to go to church this week, or why he didn't have to take some of the younger siblings to the market but when they grew, the younger siblings noticed how their Pa's death had affected Tom and their mother much more than them.

"Sorry Ma, but your still feather light, probably lighter than Lily," he joked and Lily stood, hitting his arm in annoyance.

They all exchanged personal pleasantries, jokes and all, before settling down for some dinner, as it was nearing 6 o'clock. They didn't sit at the table, Rosaleen didn't have the energy for a proper affair, so they all had their bowls of soup, a small bit of bread and sat of the sofa's and chairs in the living room, threatened with the pain of death if any was spilled.

Sybil absented herself so to feed little Chris, which left Tom and his mother and sister, Cillian left for his own home and dinner, to chat.

"So how was the visit?" his mother asked warily. "Obviously it was eventful, having your son being born and all,"

Tom smiled and nodded.

"Oh yeah, it was eventful, and that's without Chris being born."

"What did he say to ya Tom? Sybil's Pa? Come on, out with it," Ma ordered. She knew from Tom's letters and from the events leading up to their wedding that Lord Grantham wasn't a very nice man; a good employer, but not a nice man. Even though she had never met him, she would love to meet him and give him a piece of her mind.

"Béarla diabhal," she growled under her breath, but it wasn't low enough to get past Tom.

"Ma, don't go saying things like that. Makes you a hypocrite," he reasoned. By calling Lord Grantham one of the 'damn English' when she loved Sybil so much, didn't sit right with him.

"Sorry lad but…well you know," she sighed and they both nodded.

There was a silence for a while, the only sounds were the soup bubbling away and Sybil making noises of discomfort from breast feeding.

"I saw another lad getting a beating today on the docks," Tom stated and his Ma and sister tutted.

"Tans?"

"Yep,"

His mother then made a disgruntled sound, like a resound sigh. She hated the Tans as much as anyone, well maybe a bit more. They shot her son.

"Makes me sick," she sighed. "Poor lad. _Deus benedicat anima eum_," she said a little prayer, crossing herself, her children following her suit. They all sat in silence, contemplating another, as far as they knew, unjust beating and no doubt death of a lad.

Sybil and her now sated baby re-entered the room, making her stop and stare at her silent in laws.

"What happened?" she said quietly and the family snapped out their reverie, chuckling slightly.

"Oh nothing to worry you dear. Apparently Tom saw another lad beaten by the Tans," Mrs Branson said, waving her hand in dismissal. Many frowned at how…seemingly comfortable Mrs Branson was to the violent and unnecessary behaviour going on outside her door but not her family, they knew what she was like; the army and the Tans had forced their way in a few times, the last time she saw them coming and opened the door for them so not to knock down her door. It ruffled a few feathers but at the same time they understood.

They just didn't scare her as much as they used to.

Sybil sat down next to Tom, who kissed her cheek fondly, making Mrs Branson smile widely.

"Tom did you tell your mother about your job?" she said. His cheeks flamed a little, turning red and looking at his mother very sheepishly. He was going to wait until asking his mother for he and his family to stay here as part of the reason, but of course, his wife was eager enough to drop him in it! Rosaleen looked rather confused, putting down her food and an eyebrow raised high. She had heard that someone came to the house with a letter but she thought it was from Lillian's lover lad.

"What's this?"

Sybil blushed, realising her mistake and said, "Tom got a promotion at the paper and he needs to meet Mr-"

Lily then sat up a little straighter in her seat, chewing the rest of her food and slamming the bowl down on the small table, making them all jump and Mrs Branson frown and grumble under her breath.

"Oh yes! I remember! I forgot to tell you Ma, he stopped by the house for me to send the letter to him, as he didn't know the address for the-"

"Why didn't you tell me this Lillian?" Mrs Branson boomed at her daughter, silencing her and making her shrink. "Do you have a sieve for a mind, girl? Honestly,"

"Sorry Ma," she squeaked, looking down and away from her mothers angry eyes.

Rosaleen shook her head at her daughter, tutting slightly before smiling at the young family sat opposite her.

"That's grand, son. When do you see him?"

"Tomorrow," he answered, smiling.

* * *

Tomorrow came and as Tom said, he went to visit Mr Hart at the office, even though it was Tom's last day off. Of course, his Ma let them stay; it would be very harsh for her not to and she said that she wanted them around, which was a plus. He kept his head down whilst walking through the streets, keeping the attentions of the Tans away from him and on others or whatever they were doing. He finally turned onto the right street, which was pack with people, as per usual and fought his way through the throng.

His work was easy to recognise; it had many people gathered outside the building, which stretched the majority of the way down the street. It had a large clock, with 'The Irish Times' carefully placed in red and white stained glass above it. It adorned banners, telling everyone and anyone of the main news and some advertisement from different companies.

He managed to push through the main entrance, no doubt shoving some people out of the way in the process, and the man he wanted to see was shouting at some poor lass in the records office. No doubt she lost something.

"Mr Hart!" He called, no doubt saving the girl from a deducted pay or worse, being fired.

"Ah!" the man smiled and reached out to shake his hand, "Mr Branson, welcome back,"

Mr Hart was a balding man, veering from being middle aged to his fifties. He was a cheery fellow, which could soon switch when you did something drastically wrong, and had a fair mind. He was a good employer and man, but of course, the last man he said that about, he ended up openly hating him because he ran away with his daughter.

And, like most men of his age, Mr Hart was a little large around his middle.

"You asked me to come in?"

"Yes, I did. Your…sister? Yes, your sister told me that you and your wife were in England with your in-laws." He chuckled. "Goodness, I hope you had luck with you on that. I have heard some of the things you've said about them,"

Mr Hart gave a knowing chuckle, for he was married too, and Tom knew that he would ask what had happened later in the day. Tom would reprimand Lily when he got home; He hadn't told Hart where he was going, though he was glad that Lily didn't tell him who Sybil's parents were. That would induce questions and make their well being and safety none existent.

"Well, in some respects it was, in others not so much," Tom nodded and Hart laughed again. Since being away, Tom had forgotten how much this man laughed and it was a lot.

"Ah, yes. Isn't it always the way? Anyhow, your promotion. That's what I want to talk about. Come,"

They both walked up to his office, talking of Christopher and anything Tom had missed whilst being away. Apparently, more Tans were coming and Hart told Tom to keep his head down more so than he is now and 'lock' away his young family. Hart gestured for Tom to sit in front of his desk, he himself sitting in his swivel chair, which slightly creaked and protested to his weight. Tom made a little wince; he knew that one day that chair would break.

"So, head investigative reporter. It's a lot of work, you'll manage a team of lads who, well, basically did what you did; looked for stories, wrote them down, handed them in, etc, but this time they'll go where you tell them, hence investigative."

He paused to gauge Tom's reaction, who was frowning, but with concentration. He continued,

"Of course you'll still write your own stuff because I like it and people like reading it, but this time, rather than handing in stuff, you'll be the one your team will hand things in to. Read them, tell them where to make improvements or print straight away. I know you'll get a few shite ones but, you got to start at the bottom and there is a new lad. Take it a little easier on him; fresh out of school, he is. Anyway, does that sound good to you?"

Tom thought about it; basically Hart was telling him that he was a boss of a small group of journalists, reviewing their work, whilst doing some free lance work of his own. It sounded like a good deal. He was right; this would be much more work than he had previously done but it was worth it to move up in his job…and buy their house.

"It does, yes sir. Will I be starting tomorrow since, well, I'm back?" Tom asked.

Hart nodded, and moved to the window as a loud crash and bang came from outside. He growled as he saw Tans knocking over some of his newspaper stands; a fortune that would cost him in 'free' papers. The editor is not going to be pleased.

"Bloody hell," Tom said, looking out the other window at the same scene. He shook his head and they both sat back down again, pushing the troubles out of their minds.

"Yes, you will start tomorrow. Get here at about 10, your lads will already be here and they'll have stuff ready for you to look at, and the new kid, you'll have to talk to." Hart instructed, checking off another talking point on his list on his desk.

"Now, salary. You'll have a significant bump up from what you were previously paid, no doubt giving you more security for the family. Does your wife still have her job?"

Tom nodded, but amended it, "Well, yes, they ask her to go in sometimes. Since having Chris lad, I know it'll be hard for her. We could let my mother look after him but I think she wants to do it herself."

Hart nodded, though thought it strange that there would be an option for Tom's wife to bring up their children. It was as if she had no experience at all…like she had been brought up, not by her parents. He'd never met Sybil; all he knew from the young lads that work with Tom that she was English and had a fancy face.

"Ah, yes of course. Well, with her little income and yours, I think you'll be very comfortable. Of course you get a little bonus. You'll get £700 a year, with a bonus of £50 for your promotion."

Hart watched at Toms eyes went a little wide at the money. Too right, he was only on £250 a year before hand. Hart did try to give Tom a higher salary before but when the man who had this job before, Keates something, left to go to the Independent, he had no second thoughts on whom to give the job to.

"As I said lad, a significant bump,"

"S-significant? That's bordering on insanity sir!" Tom chuckled, shaking his head, as if it would clear out some space so to take all of this in. That money would definitely buy their house.

"Maybe." Hart chuckled. "But I've seen your work. I think you could do it and do it well. So, if you'll have it, the job is yours. Is there any other questions?"

"No, I think that's all sir. Thank you, very much." Tom smiled and stood as his boss did, shaking his hand.

"Your welcome lad, see you tomorrow. Oh and one more thing, Tom? I can't guarantee safety. You know how things are getting."

Tom nodded, understanding his warning - don't do anything stupid - and said goodbye. He walked back to his mothers with a wide smile on his face, stopping on the way to give in the keys to their flat, much to the fake, believed to Tom, bereavement of the landlord. He betted that the landlord couldn't wait to see the back of him and Sybil and he didn't care a bit.

* * *

**A/N: Ta-Da! I hoped you liked this ... I'm kind of hiding behind a cushion in fear...**

**P.S PEOPLE - TOM IN THIS STORY ISN'T 30! HE'S 26, 27 - MAKING HIS MOTHER 15, 16 WHEN SHE HAD HIM. **

**Of course, not much plot here - more introducing characters and getting them settled back home. In the other one, I didn't need this chapter, everyone knows the characters! **

**Please tell me what you think! If no-one tells me I won't carry on because I won't know!**

**Cheerio!**

**J xxx**

* * *

**Money Translations - (sorry if its too much or too less! I don't know salary's for that time)**

**(£250) - **£10,150

**(£700) - **£28,420

**(****£50)** £2,030

**Language Translations - THANK YOU TO GOTHAMGIRL28 FOR TELLING ME THAT I COMPLETELY MESSED UP THE LANGUAGE - I GOT THEM A LITTLE CONFUSED - I'M WORKING ON IT!**

**Fáilte mo pháiste - Welcome my child - Gaelic/Irish**

**Deus benedicat anima eum_ - _God bless the soul of him - Latin**

**The other one is translated in the story. **


	12. Part 2: Chapter 2

**Helloooo!**

**I've changed my name - so look out for my new one, not the old one :D**

**I know, I know, an insanely long wait but there was about 5 versions of this chapter and I've had like no time on my hands with rehearsals - honestly, I don't just sit around at summer - though I wish i did; i'd get more writing done :P**

**If I forgot about thanking people for reviews and all the rest, i will thank you now :D THANK YOU! :D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Tom left that very next morning with nerves jumping through him, and the stolen, heated kiss from Sybil didn't help. She of course was delighted with Tom's new job, saying that it will give him 'practise when the children get older', and of course, Tom didn't doubt that she wanted to express her delight some what further. With them living at his mothers, they realised that certain…physical aspects were difficult; especially with Mrs Branson only in the next room and they both knew of her sharp and unrelenting temper.

He tried to get the seemingly obscene thoughts from his head, expelling an angry huff. He had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn't notice the group of men he walked into.

"Shit," he whispered when he noticed the uniforms. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going,"

He tried to reason but the three Tan soldiers stared at him as if he were mad…or the dirt at the bottom of their boots. This isn't what Tom wanted in the morning, especially on his first day at a new job. For goodness sake, turning up with a black eye and a bleeding lip wouldn't be a good impression of his character.

"Oh aye?" one jested and pushed Tom backward from them. Tom said nothing, just taking the mocking with silent anger. He could see people stopping and watching, ready to help him when the Tans left him alone, no doubt hurt. "I don't believe you, you filthy piece of shit. Get out of our way!"

The biggest of the three men, grabbed his shirt in his fists, throwing him forcefully to the floor, Tom smacking his head on the wall of the building he collided with. He heard them laugh and jeer, shouting at on lookers to carry on with their day and telling them not to dare look at them.

They must have turned the corner as he felt hands pulling him up and voices asking questions and worrying needlessly.

"Tom? Tom! For god sake man? What are you doing pissing off Tans? You're lucky they didn't send you down." He heard a familiar voice shout. He noticed her blonde hair and his mothers face, though not quite. His sister Yvonne, who was just under two years younger than himself, shooed the crowd away, leaving her and her husband, to help Tom stand.

"Thanks." Tom groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"No worries." Yvonne's husband, Teddy, consoled, patting Tom on the back. "Bastards the lot of them,"

"Ted!" Yvonne smacked her husband hard on the arm, making Tom chuckle. He looked around for any sign of danger - there was none - and a clock.

"What?" Ted shrugged, slyly rubbing the coming bruise on his arm without his wife seeing. Tom chuckled, again, a sharp pain niggling the back of his head. He winced, making his sister automatically fuss over him.

"Stop Yvonne. I'm fine, just banged my head."

She sighed, shaking her head and putting her hands of her hips. Teddy, too, shook his head, knowing that his wife wasn't going to give up.

Tom liked Teddy; he was a good laugh. They were friends for a while when they were growing up but when Teddy's Ma ran off with another man after his Da died, he moved to live with his Gran in Cork. It was too long a haul for them to stay close but they still stayed friends.

"Really? Well, you'd better hope to God that there's no blood or cut or anything. Your English beaut' will blow her top," Teddy warned.

Tom touched his head again, cautiously checking for blood, but there was none. Good. He knew that Sybil would get worried and her behaviour would be drastic.

"How is Sybil? I heard you two went to England?" Yvonne asked.

"And came back three?" Teddy smiled widely, lightly punching his brother in law on the shoulder. "Congrats!"

Yvonne looked between the two men, her face full of confusion – she didn't know that she was an aunt! Again! The two men were oblivious to her blind panic. How had she missed this news and how did her husband, who is gormless at the best of times, know before her? She interrupted them both, gasping and waving her hands about,

"How did I not know this? I'm an aunt? Tom!" she whined his name, hitting him too.

Teddy held his wife's hands, restraining her from inflicting an further damage.

"Alright love, I think he's had enough of a beating."

Yvonne sighed and slumped against her husband's chest, making Tom slightly uncomfortable. He had seen his younger sisters marry, he had been the one to give Yvonne away, but he didn't really want to see their intimate moments. It brought out his brotherly protective side and Teddy knows that side best.

"Sorry we didn't tell you but I thought Ma told everybody." Tom sighed,

"You know I rarely speak to Ma anymore Tom. I'm too busy,"

Tom heard a clock chime nearby and reminded him of where he was heading in the first place. He told his sister to stop by later and see Chris – she loved the name – and that he would tell them of his first day at his new job.

"See you later Tom, congrats about the job!" Teddy shouted down the street, obviously embarrassing Yvonne who rolled her eyes and blushed at the passers by looking at them.

* * *

"Thank you again, for letting us stay here. I just didn't feel safe back at our flat," Sybil again, thanked Mrs Branson. They were both scurrying around the kitchen, making dinner for them and the rest of the family who heard of Tom and Sybil's return and the birth of a new little one. He was in the next room, sleeping soundly, for the first time in a while.

Sybil told Mrs Branson how he cried the whole way over on the boat especially when the boat swelled, making their stomachs turn. She said not to worry as many had complained saying that their children didn't like sea travel and had upset tummies.

"Don't worry about it dear, I'm happy to have you stay, though I'm sure Tom will have something up his sleeve. Always does," She chuckled, whipping the bread dough in a mixing bowl roughly and expertly. Sybil swore that this woman could rival Mrs Patmore. She smiled at the thought; that would be fun to see.

Sybil still didn't know what they were making; she just did as she was told. Being a daughter in law didn't mean that she was safe from a scolding. She had been a few times. It felt strange for Sybil; it belittled her of course and made sure that she learnt her lesson but it also made her feel cared for by a parent, rather then the nasty nanny who she would test by running and hiding around the house.

The small kettle whistled on the grill over the fire, telling them that the water was boiled and the vegetables, that Lily had been chopping for what seemed like hours, could begin cooking and that it was time for a well deserved cup of tea.

Sybil picked up her son, bouncing him gently as he slept on her shoulder. He gurgled and then spluttered out a cough. Than he awoke and wailed.

"Oh no," Sybil groaned, sitting down and bringing him down so he was cradled in her arms. She looked him over; he was still warm, a little pink and his eyes looked normal. He coughed again, bringing the attention of Mrs Branson.

"How long has he had that cough?" she asked, setting down her tea and sitting forward.

"Not long. Since we've arrived back here. I don't know what's wrong. He seems normal." Sybil sighed, the underlay of panic in her voice quite evident. Rosaleen stood, pushing up her sleeves and taking him from her. She laid him on the table, taking off his little clothes and put her ear to his chest. She waited until he coughed, which he did, making her sigh. She felt his temperature again and listened to his heartbeat.

"I can't see anything largely wrong with him, but he's a tad warm so we need to keep an eye on that. The cough an' all, that sometimes can be a problem." She said, a little wary of her grandson's next actions. She wrapped him up in a blanket and placed him back in his basket. She folded up his baby clothes, and put them back in the spare room draws. Rosaleen felt that he was too warm for clothes; a blanket would be enough.

She came back to see Sybil stood over him, with a look on her face she had seen many times. She had seen her daughters, daughter in-laws and other young women stand over their first newborn child, their faces forlorn and eyes struck with worry. She knew what was going through her daughter in laws head; she was praying, or wishing, either one, for her baby not to die.

Rosaleen rubbed Sybil's back gently, coaxing her away with soothing words toward the sofa.

"He'll be alright. There are four of us, including you, livin' here and looking out for him. I'm sure that one of us will notice something." She said softly, letting Sybil rest her head on her shoulder. The house was peacefully quiet, almost enough to make the women drowsy and close their eyes. Sybil did for a moment, completely comfortable and comforted, until she heard a knife chopping and slicing again from the kitchen; Lily was trying to be inconspicuous, though it failed miserably. The two women sat on the sofa turned to look at her and frowned.

"Sorry," Lily mumbled and Sybil chuckled, patting her mother in laws hand before pulling her back into the kitchen to finish their work. The women worked constantly until their fingers hurts and their backs were aching, but dinner was done along with all the cleaning and housework. The all slumped upon their respective seats, Lily closing her eyes and quietly dozing within seconds.

"No more for today I think," Rosaleen chuckled. Her words were short-lived when a loud knock came at the door. Rosaleen grumbled, shaking her head as she shuffled toward the front door.

"Yes?" she asked the woman stood rather insistently at her door.

"Nurse Geraldine," she introduced herself with a quipped tone. "I hear that Nurse Branson is back. I need to speak to her,"

* * *

"Right, you lot, shut your mouths and listen," Hart ordered the young men and surprisingly, one young woman, who was silent and shrunken in her body language. Tom, half amused, half nervously, chuckled as some of the still carried on, which showed him that this job would be harder than he thought. He again looked at the young lass, who only looked to be about 18, and shrugged. She returned it, looking and sighing at the group of three lads still having a joke.

Hart gave Tom a small introduction to them all, saying that they were all starters and very young – the eldest only being 20, but they were acting younger than that. Tom decided that Hart wasn't going to shut them up; he wasn't their boss. He was. So, by slamming his bag upon the wooden desk, creating a loud and echoing bang, effectively silenced them. Tom smirked as they all turned to stare at him; their eyes wide as if they were little children caught doing something they shouldn't.

"Mr Hart?" Tom said, letting him continue. Hart too smirked and began again.

"Right, this here is Mr Tom Branson. He's your boss. Basically you do as he says and if not, your straight out the door, am I clear?"

A chorus of murmured 'yes'' filled the room and the group of 15 stood to attention, listening intently.

"I haven't got the time to be pissing about and neither does he. I picked you all out because you lot were being overshadowed, and I like to give everyone a chance. Your stuff is good but it could be better."

Tom knew what that meant; they were inexperienced. But that didn't bother him because he was too at one point, all the people here would have been. You've got to start somewhere. Hart was still going with his sergeant-major like commands.

"Now, Tom hasn't led a team before and some of you won't like that, but that's just tough. If you've read what he's written, then you'll know why he's in charge." Hart barked at them, pacing in front of them.

Tom remembered Hart giving him and some other newcomers a similar speech; he knew how they felt. He watched as they all winced when Hart neared them and relax again when he walked away.

"Now, all of you give your names,"

Tom listened to them all – the three young boys who he deemed there and then on that first meeting to be trouble were Martin, Aedan and Coinneach – though he said just to call him Kenny. The young girls name was Brigid, and was very shy. Either that or she was intimidated by being the only girl there. They all had small articles to hand in to him, which to Tom, made this whole thing sound like school, but it was for splitting them into separate teams for different fields and stories. Hart had told them all to basically bugger off and get out of the way while Tom read them.

Tom immediately saw why some of them were overshadowed or ruled out of different stories. A lot of the information was wrong and the way the articles were written were, most of the time, the complete opposite to what they were meant to sound like. A few he were impressed with, making less work for him to concentrate on them but the three boys were the worst of all. Tom wondered if Hart had just dragged them off the street. There were so many errors that it made his head spin. He had had enough of reading; he wanted to talk to them all.

As he neared the door, he heard a conversation outside of it and the mention of his own name intrigued him.

"I think he's alright," a lad said.

Another laughed and another smaller voice scoffed.

"I don't know really," a girl's voice sounded. Brigid. "We'll have to wait and see. Like Luke said, he might be good. Unlike my last boss,"

"You know why that is don't you? It's 'cause you're a lass. Some don't like lasses working for them."

There was silence and a little scuffle. It wouldn't surprise Tom if she smacked him. The chuckle afterward told him that she had.

"Did you know my brother went to school with his sister? He says that she said he's got an English wife."

"Bloody hell! Fucking traitor!"

The two boys started growling and cursing, making Tom wince and boil with anger. He didn't mind them saying that they hated him; he was their boss, what did he expect? But Sybil was different, they didn't know her.

"Yeah I know. She works at the hospital. She's nice. There's nothing wrong with her," Brigid stated harshly.

The boys said nothing and Brigid began again.

"My cousin and my Ma work with her and she treated me for my eye last week-"

"Oh yeah, Tans got you didn't they?" One boy said sadly.

Tom couldn't listen to it anymore. He couldn't listen to her describing Tans beating her, even though she was just a kid. The Tans couldn't care less obviously.

He opened the door, making the three young people jump and, one of the boys, Derry; spill some of his drink down him. Tom couldn't help but smirk and cough to cover his laugh.

"Right, Aeden, Kenny. Need to talk to you about these."

The other members jeered and laughed as the two boys walked over and looked very defeated.

* * *

"Nurse Geraldine!" Sybil gasped and leapt to the front door. "What are you doing here?"

The old nurse sighed in annoyance, placing her hand firmly on her hips and narrowing her gaze at Sybil. Now, Sybil was terrified. She had seen Nurse Geraldine do this to other women before they were getting a good telling off. Though she couldn't think what she had done.

"Well, I could ask you the same thing! You didn't turn up for your shift!" she snapped. Rosaleen widened her eyes at the abruptness of the nurse's behaviour and felt Sybil's fear.

"You know that I get two months off after having my baby, and, maybe if you've noticed, I've had him." Sybil said back, some annoyance and attitude seeping into her words. She rarely spoke with such a snappy tone but for Nurse Geraldine to come here and tell her off when she did nothing wrong – she want going to stand for it.

"How am I supposed to know if you have had your baby? I'm not a mind reader dear!"

Mrs Branson could see this turning into a fight. With Tan's skulking around close by, she didn't want to attract attention by having her daughter in law and her superior at work screaming at each other on her doorstep.

"Nurse Geraldine, why don't you come inside and you and Sybil can discuss this rather than shout at each other. You can see the baby if you'd like," Rosaleen offered, stepping back so to coax her in. Thankfully, she took up the offer and stepped into the small annex area, looking around her in, what seemed to Mrs Branson to be disgust, as the living room wasn't separate or down a hallway. She gave a knowing look to her daughter in law, who looked very sorry for Nurse Geraldine's appearance.

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, no thank you I don't want to stay long. I just need to speak to your daughter in law." Nurse Geraldine said, her nose turning up at the offer.

Eliza Geraldine was the kind of woman who saw herself higher than most and exulted in her power. She was an aging woman, and due to her huge ego and awful, patronising attitude, it surprised Sybil to know that she was married. There were no children though, maybe that was why she was being to sour toward Sybil; Eliza's younger self seething with jealousy at the younger nurse having children.

"Alright then," Mrs Branson mumbled and nodded to Lillian, telling her to bring out Christopher, who began screaming in the next room. Sybil invited her boss to sit, which she did but not without silent complaint which was clear on her face. Sybil smiled widely as her son was brought through straight into her arms, squirming and wailing loudly. His black hair was tufted, sticking up all over the place from sleeping most of the morning.

"My, what a noise," Nurse Geraldine stated, smiling slightly. Sybil smiled back, though she was unsure whether her superiors smile was in mocking of her mothering skills or just at his genetically 'large lungs' as Lillian put it.

"Yes, he certainly keeps up and alert, don't you?" she answered, and cooed to him, trying to calm him by bouncing him and kissing his red cheek.

"So, when will you be coming back?"

Sybil would have said right there and then but at the same time she wanted to be with her son…and away from her.

"Well, he was born almost 4 weeks ago so not long now, at the end of July." She calculated, though Nurse Geraldine didn't look impressed. She gave the young mother a look, her eyes slitted and an unsatisfied huff. Sybil then had had enough; she didn't approve of how Nurse Geraldine had storm her way here, shouting and snapping at her and now she was just being, what Sybil believed to be spiteful.

"What is it?" she asked, Sybil's patience wearing thin.

Eliza sort of flipped her head, so to give off an arrogant aura.

"Well, I may need you back sooner than that, you see," her voice was sickly sweet, telling Sybil that bad news was to come. "Another one of the nurses is off with baby leave and I have a feeling Harriet is going to ask the same soon and, well, you seem to have plenty of help here-"

"Help? They're not my servants! I take care of him and besides, my husband and I won't be living here for much longer and until we find a house and work out our working times, I'm afraid I will need the time off!" Sybil interrupted, her anger flaring and making the older nurse wince and attracting Mrs Branson's attention. Both ladies stood, the pure rage between them making the edge of their vision see red.

"Okay, settle down the pair of you." Mrs Branson ordered. "You are in my house Nurse Geraldine and I don't appreciate your behaviour. I think you should go and Sybil will return as she said at the end of July,"

Nurse Geraldine scoffed at Rosaleen, swatting her hand off of her shoulder – angering Mrs Branson to no end – and looking at them both with a look to say that they had no authority over her.

"I don't think so. In my right mind I should say that she should come back tomorrow 6am start! Alas, I am not cruel-"

"You could have fooled me! You've been nothing but cruel! Now you should definitely leave, you daft delusional cow. Get out of my house,"

The atmosphere was increasing in hostility and no words needed to be said. The three women just gave angry glares and let the resentment flood the air.

"Well, it is obvious that I am not welcome here," Eliza said. She picked up her bag and strutted to the door, turning only to say. "Nurse Branson, if I do not see you on this day in two weeks, you will have no job at all,"

* * *

Hart had kept an eye on Tom throughout the day, hoping that his instincts and trust in Tom's abilities had been right. He had asked around some of the team, Brigid especially, to see if Tom was treating them well and from the majority, he was doing fine. Some of them, the three whose articles Tom condemned to being almost illiterate.

Of course, when the news got back to the boys, they weren't as compliant to Tom's charge as before. They had caused him trouble all afternoon, resulting in him getting a headache, which throbbed and pounded when someone tried to talk to him.

Hart knocked on the door, fairly loudly, causing Tom again to groan and wince at the sound.

"Yes?" Tom sighed, sitting up from laying his head on his desk. Hart frowned, taking in Toms dishevelled appearance. He wondered if it would be a good time to bother him but he knew he had to.

"Nearly done for your first day?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Tom wiped his hand over his face, trying to bring his mind back into focus when Aedan and Kenny started arguing, shouting and shoving one another into different people's desks, knocking over typewriters, which were bloody expensive. Tom stood from his desk, coming out into the main working room to see the destruction.

"Oi! Pack it in! You're acting like a bunch of fecking children! My 2 month old baby is better behaved." He yelled over the racket.

But they didn't listen. It was at that point, Tom realised that they weren't arguing for a purpose, they were doing it to annoy Tom and get his anger riled up. Hart was then thoroughly impressed by Tom's leadership, as he then decided to kick both boys out of his team, leaving them in the care and their fate in Hart himself. There were no buts or ifs, they were straight out. The room then fell silent and after the two boys were ordered to pick up the typewriters and the rest of the mess they had made, the rest of Tom's team carried on with their work with no fuss; his headache finally beginning to subside.

"Mr Hart, I believe you wanted to speak to me?" Tom asked quietly, knowing now that he could trust the rest to carry on.

"Yes," Hart smiled. "This way,"

Hart beckoned him into the large office at the opposite end of the long hall. People who were once Tom's colleagues, stared at him, some with pride and others with resentment, but he couldn't care less. He wasn't out to please anyone, well, except his boss; he did want to keep his decent job after all.

"So, lad, how's your first day been?"

Tom sighed, sitting down in the chair opposite, shaking his head slightly.

"Honestly sir? It's been good, but definitely not what I expected. Some of these lads, you know who I'm talking about, are just…a nightmare. But I suppose, they'll settle down when they get used to me, as well as I getting used to them,"

Hart smirked and sucked in a breath.

"That was rather poetic and very honest and truthful. I noticed that you were cracking a little but you held it together, which is very admirable. I think you did very well considering all the stuff going on at home,"

Tom frowned, how on earth did he know about all of that?

"How?"

"The baby and all that. I also heard that you and your wife were homeless, living with your Ma. I wouldn't let that get about, the lads will eat you alive," He explained. That still didn't answer Tom's question and the fact that he knew about him being homeless made Tom see his boss in a new and uncomfortable light. He didn't question it further; he didn't want to insult Hart and end up being sack, especially with he and Sybil wanting to by a new house. That reminded him, in the coming weeks they would have to start looking. But houses wouldn't be the only thing Tom would be keeping an eye on.

* * *

**A/N: There you go. Not the best one i've written. Its another one to introduce characters and all that crap. **

**Now, I go on holiday on the 16th for 10 days so there will be nothing for a while - nothing new there - i'll try and get another one, maybe two if i'm pushing it, before I go.**

**I have to say, sorry to some but - GO TEAM GB! What absolutely wonderful people. I've been watching it pretty much everyday, as much as I can, I love it :D **

**Please tell me what you think :D**

**Cheerio! **

**GMJ17 xxx**


	13. Part 2: Chapter 3

**Helloooo :D**

**I'm back from my holiday and here is a chapter for you all. I had this idea, its not a nice one I'm afraid, during my holiday so i had to wait so long before writing it - it almost killed me! :P**

**The song used in here is Pride by Amy MacDonald - it was while listening to this song that I got the idea. (Rights go to her for the song and all that)**

**This chapter is may be distressing - a bit - but i thought i'd give you a bit of warning. **

**Enjoy :D **

* * *

Sybil cried hopelessly into Tom's chest that night. She had turned up, in two weeks, 6am sharp just like Nurse Geraldine had instructed only for her to be humiliated in front of the nurses by Nurse Geraldine, openly firing her. She didn't stay, Sybil just stormed out of the hospital, two of her friends running after her as far as the end of the street before giving up; she wasn't coming back, they thought.

Sybil ran thought to run straight home, but she needed comfort and his mother wasn't the right kind. She knew that he would be busy but she needed him. She found Tom in his office, pretty much falling asleep at the large pile of paper on his desk. He soon snapped out of it when she burst in, tears streaming down her face and her hair loose and almost completely falling out of the plait.

When she told him, she'd never seen him so angry. But he soon calmed, comforted her and held her until she decided to go back to his mothers but Tom had a better idea.

_In fact why don't you start looking at houses?_

And she did, all afternoon. She found three in the end, all within budget – just – and big enough for the three of them and more. One of the houses had room for a car, but she didn't tell Tom this; she didn't want to bias his decision.

Through her tears, she brought out the descriptions of the three houses, all of which came with a small blueprint sketch.

"These are the three I found. They seem quite reasonable don't they?" she asked, giving him the different files. He looked them over, impressed with his wife's choices. He had actually had his eye on one of the houses she had chosen. The only problem was the price. With Sybil now not having a job, they would probably, only just scrape the lowest amount; if anyone makes a higher bid, they'd have to pull out. Tom was so lost in his own thoughts and musings that he didn't realise Sybil was talking to him. She patted his arm, making him snap his gaze to her confused, blotchy face.

"Sorry, what?" he mumbled.

"I asked what you thought and if we should go and look at them?" she said, frowning. She didn't like it when Tom ignored her.

"Oh, sorry love," Tom murmured, a little embarrassed. "Erm, well, I think the third house was one I had looked at before and liked so we should go to that one first, but the others look just as good. But…the price," he whined a little at the end.

Sybil nodded mournfully; she knew that the price was almost extortionate but she knew the market. She had been looking for patterns. Any house that has been on the market for about 6 months, dropped significantly in price due to desperation of the owners wanting to sell it, and if it were with a company, they would want to get rid of it so to support 'fresh market' houses.

"I know, it's awful, but it will drop soon. I've kept watch,"

Tom smirked and kissed his wife's forehead, thoroughly impressed.

"Sneaky girl, but that's good. How long do you think?"

"About a week or so, but we have to be quick. I've seen people get very vicious about these insanely houses," Sybil replied, sitting up as Christopher had just began to fuss and whimper.

Though Christopher was slightly better, he still had a little bit of a fever. Sybil did take him to a doctor; he just had a little cold and they did give him a little medicine, which did help but didn't calm his fever back to normal. She picked him up, cradling him close to her chest and rocked him gently.

"How is he?" Tom asked quietly, worry filling him. His younger brother had a fever for months, he remembered, and he was very ill for a long time. Mrs Branson was sure that he was to die but 'God works in mysterious ways,' she said. Tom didn't want to think of his – their first son and child dying. He shook the thought away as Sybil brought him over to him, sitting down again on the sofa.

"Just a little feverish. Bless him, he's just not getting well," Sybil sighed, worry crossing her features.

Tom wrapped an arm around them both and looked on his son, who clearly, they weren't going to give up without a fight.

* * *

'Poor little Lily' they would say; 'the wretched little lass.' You see, Lillian took joy in music. Her father owned a guitar, a very old and possibly handmade one at that but it could still carry a beautiful tune that could ricochet off buildings, letting people from possibly miles away hear her. She could sing too. Beautifully. Being only 16 and working in the small shop that her aunt owned, the money wasn't brilliant for both her and her mother to live on. So she stood on the on the small plinth in the square, everyday, for the past few months, and sang and played till her heart was content…or until it rained.

Many would gather around the small platform: mothers with children, friends, businessmen on their small breaks and even a few family members. Sybil used to pass this way on her way to work, listen to one song, smiling all the while and place around a pound in the small pot in front of her.

But the crowd that would surround and support her would be broken up, always by Tans; everyday they came but everyday she came back. The people loved her for it, resulting in the public being more charitable with their givings.

Today was no exception.

The gritty but familiar folk tune sang around the enclosed square attracting the crowd like flies to honey. She sung a familiar and a favourite among the throng, who in turn started to sing quietly and sway to the beat.

"_Because I'd move mountains if you asked me to,"_

The words pricked Sybil's ears as she walked with her son in his pram; the music would cheer them up she thought. Sybil, now having all the time in the world, begrudgingly so, took her son out in his pram for a walk around the small park near them and through the square to see Lily.

"_I'd swim the seven seas,"_

As she entered it, there was the usual large crowd and the aura of expectancy; they all knew that the brutes would arrive at any moment. For now, the crowd and Sybil enjoyed the music and the quick release from all the chaos around them.

"_I'll be the one to hold your torch again,_

_I'll do anything you ask of me!"_

Lily noticed her sister in law and nodded in hello; she couldn't well stop and speak it! She also noticed her brothers Cillian and Harry who worked together on the docks, standing and watching; they waved Sybil over when they spied her and Cillian took out Christopher from his pram, wide awake and looking around, and held him near his chest, swaying him gently from side to side with the music.

"_I never knew how proud I would feel,_

_just standing in the rain._

_These three words mean everything to me,_

_And I'll sing them, again and again…"_

And as if on cue, they came.

They ran into the square pointing guns and screaming profanities at the adults. They terrified the children who scampered away from their parents to anywhere that was safe. But Lily stuck to her post and carried on. They had come before and had done nothing but scare away the crowd and warn her. Sybil was the opposite; she wanted to run, get her child out of here and to safety.

"Put him in!" she hissed, and Cillian obliged. Sybil's temper wasn't one to trifle with. She began to walk away, her maternal instinct taking over to get her son away, when a uniformed man stood in her way.

"Where are you going? Get back!" he shouted in her face, making her wince and shudder. Harry held her shoulders as the Tans started to surround them, hassling them and taunting Sybil.

They also began to taunt Lillian. This time it was different. Obviously the sergeant had had enough of her singing and decided to put a stop to it once and for all. He pulled Lillian by her hair down from the plinth, making the family members shout and scream at them to stop.

"I have had enough of your awful caterwauling! Shut! Your! MOUTH!" he yelled at her, yanking her hair at every sharp accent of the last three words. Lillian cried as her keels failed her; the force he was exerting was too much.

Cillian and Harry started to see red. They, well no so much didn't mind, but it was the norm, for the Black and Tans to choose their targets as young men around their own age but a young girl at 16 – still a kid basically was too cruel for words. They began to shout but it fell on deaf ears.

"She's only 16!"

"Let her go!"

"She weren't doing no harm!"

Lillian was still screaming and Cillian pushed one of the soldiers who was about to go at her with scissors. Sybil screamed as she knew what they threatened to do; she herself had had scissors brought out upon her before. Christopher started to cry and fuss in her arms. The whole square was in uproar, even though there were fewer people around than before. People looking over from houses started shouting too; some men came out to try and help. They saw the baby and they knew of Lillian and that she was young – in these situations, others would help.

The solider turned on Cillian, who was letting out harsh breaths of anger, and punched him.

"How dare you touch me?! You Irish bastard!"

The men coming across charged then, pulling out Cillian from the Tans blows and tried to pry Lillian free.

"Who do you think you are? She's only 16! A kid! Is that what you do know, eh? Picking on young 'uns now!" the man shouted. He shoved the soldier away from Lillian, who ran back to her brother's arms, and another knocked the scissors out of his hands.

Sybil relaxed slightly at the unarmed soldier, not at all at the situation. She could see one solider looking at her and the others; when he noticed her gaze he put up his gun.

"Stop looking at me! Get up against the wall, all of you! Names!" he shouted. "And shut that baby up!"

Sybil felt a tear run down her cheek as she tried helplessly to calm her son. She wished – no she didn't wish Tom was here; she wished that she was wherever he was, away from this violence and hate and in his safe hold. The solider pushed her slightly but firmly, making her stumble and making Harry stir and growl at him,

"Leave her alone, she's got a babe, cant you see?"

Of course, he got a punch for that and his nose was bloodied. Sybil wished that the men would stop answering back; that was how they got killed.

"Names! Give me your fucking names!" he screamed.

"Cillian Branson, dock labourer."

They wrote down each of their names and occupation they turned to Sybil who was too scared to say a word.

"Give them your name," Harry hissed, who rubbed her shoulder in soothing.

"S-s-Sybil Branson, nurse," she stammered, but they proclaimed it too quiet for them to hear. The leader was starting to stir, clearly annoyed with her behaviour and pretty much her existence – he barked at her to speak, pulling out a knife and putting it to her hair.

"Tell us your name before I cut!"

She screamed and cried and wailed her last words. The leader stumbled back, putting away his knife and looking at his men, shocked. The soldiers around started to whisper and gossip; she was no longer English as far as they were concerned.

"You're English?" he spat finally after a few moments of silence.

She nodded, tears still flowing. She could speak but the repercussions of what had just happened caught up to her. The army knew and if they didn't they would soon find out who she was. She would then have no choice to return back to England and back to the life she loathed.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"England," she whispered.

"Don't get clever!" he bellowed. "Where abouts' in England, cheeky cow?"

She couldn't tell the truth, but she couldn't lie. She just wanted to go home. She looked at her family stood next to her, Cillian who nodded for her to answer truthfully; he knew the secret and he knew that the Tans wouldn't be any the wiser of what had happened there.

"Yorkshire, a small town near Leeds,"

The man nodded and turned away from her, grumbling about her being a traitorous slut. Thankfully, she didn't hear it.

"Right, I've told you again and again, no public meetings! Do you like defying us, us who hands out the law?" the leader bellowed at Lillian, pushing her to the floor in front of him. She said nothing; she didn't even look at him.

"Give me then bloody scissors,"

"NO!" Lillian screeched but no one could do anything. The brothers and the men who helped were pinned back and Sybil was threatened with a gun. They watched as her blonde hair scattered the concrete, her screaming all the while and the soldiers laughing at her pain. Sybil would never forget this day as long as she lived, for it sparked a true hatred that she had never felt before.

After the Tans left, which wasn't without them smashing Lillian's guitar, the two brothers helped Lillian up, who was frozen with shock and grief, and Cillian broke away so Sybil could freely examine her without having to juggle Christopher, who was still wailing.

"Lillian? Talk to me. Everything is alright now, they've gone. They won't come back," she whispered but no sound came in return. Harry nodded and scooped up his little sister, carrying her home.

Sybil was about to ask Cillian to take her to Tom but he already knew.

"Come on, I know, I'll walk you to him,"

She cried silently the whole way there.

* * *

Tom groaned in frustration as another one of his workforce left the building on his order. He couldn't live with this for much longer. The only reliable source of articles was Brigid, whom he wrongly thought wouldn't give him much at all. She wasn't as shy anymore now that she was used to her new boss and she spent most of the time bossing the young men around, some who were 3 or 4 years older than her. He had a knock at his door – it was Brigid – who entered rather sheepishly with more paper; another article. Thank god, Tom thought.

"Another one sir," she said, smiling as he took it.

"Thanks Brigid, what's it about?"

Then she blushed looking very sheepish. That meant that she knew something he didn't. Tom had learnt the little mannerisms and give away's of his team – the ones that were left anyway. This was one of those tell-tale signs. She wouldn't look at him, only the floor and she was chewing her lip.

"Brigid, what don't I know?" he asked.

She sighed, playing with her fingers.

"There was an incident earlier, my brother told me, about the girl who sings in the square-"

"What?" Tom interrupted, anger boiling through him. He knew that this was his sister and as soon as Brigid began again, someone else knocked at the door. He sighed, annoyed at the interruption.

"Yes?" he snapped.

The door opened and Sybil walked through, tears falling down her face and she was visibly shaking. This was the the second time in a month this had happened and he could see the toll it was taking on his wife. His expression softened immediately and he sent Brigid away and pulled his wife into his office, letting her cry on his shoulder. He wondered if this sudden outburst was about her job but then he remembered Lillian was harassed again by the Tans…it couldn't have been worse than before, he thought.

"Shh love, what's going on? What happened?" he murmured, stroking her hair and her back soothingly. He let her sit down as no coherent speech came from her mouth, just yammering and coughs from her tears.

He knelt in front of her, taking her hands and kissing them.

"Tell me,"

"Lillian…she-she singing…Tans! Guns…she-she-we screaming … her hair! Oh it was just-just terrible," she sniffled, gesturing to her hair and wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

"Did they shave her?" Tom mumbled. He could feel the anger boiling inside him, not just for his sister but for his wife too. She was there and there was no doubt in his mind that she would have been threatened and held at gun point. The thought made him shudder. To see her, to think of her standing before the firing squad was something that he didn't want to quell on – he refused.

Sybil nodded and more tears fell; Tom caught them and wiped them away. He kissed her hands once more a ghost of a smile appeared on her face. She did feel better but the damage was done. Lillian would never have as long hair again and it would take months to grow. Sybil was thankful that her son was a baby; he wouldn't remember and she was also thankful that Cillian and Harry were there – she wouldn't know what to do then.

"God," he choked, shaking his head. "Did they hurt you? Or Christopher?"

She shook her head but she knew that she needed to tell him, explain it all.

"They threatened me – to shave me too. They asked for my name, they heard my accent and they asked me where I came from-"

"Did you tell them?"

"I had to. You know that they would probably kill me if I lied to them," she whispered hoarsely. "All we have to do now is hope that they don't track who I truly am- God they could go to Downton!"

Sybil started to be panic and she was searching for something – a phone. She grasped shakily in her hands and started dialling, not caring for the secretary who could be heard screaming down the phone. She put the phone to her ear and grunted as said through her teeth,

"It's not working!"

She tried again and again before Tom took the phone from her, in fear of her breaking it. Tom stood then, pulling her up with him into a tight embrace. She broke down completely, her knees crumpling beneath her bringing them back to the ground again. Tom shook her slightly as her cries were drowning out his words.

"Darlin'. Firstly, it's not working because they're overseas; they haven't worked that out yet. Secondly, you've lived here for so long now and you didn't break down. You've been around the Tans everyday and, honestly, I was expecting this sooner. The crying I mean. And lastly, you should think positively about this. I know that Lily was hurt, bless her – I'll go and see her later – but you weren't and neither was Christopher and-"

"But I could have been Tom," she stopped him, gripping onto his shirt a little tighter. "One of the men held a knife to the hairline at my neck. As I said, they tried to shave me too. Another one pointed a gun at me, I could have been shot,"

Tom stiffened and sighed, kissing her forehead and tilting her head before kissing her lips softly, but firmly. She tasted of salt from the tears that she failed to wipe away and sweetness just purely from her. They sat in silence and comfort for a long time, Tom ignoring any knock that came to his door or any phone call that came to the almost smashed phone on his desk. He could feel her calm in his arms, her breathing slowing and returning to normal; it was slow enough that he thought that she was asleep but her voice startled him.

"I've never been so scared in all my life…or felt so defenceless." She murmured, absent mindedly playing with a button on his waistcoat.

He squeezed her a little tighter and she continued after taking a deep breath,

"I want…I mean – oh I don't know how to put this but…" sigh, "I don't want to be defenceless, never again. I had your brothers with me this time and thankfully, some men came to help but next time? I don't think people will be so selfless," she murmured. Sybil sat up, looking directly into his confused blue eyes. His hands moved to her waist, one scooping a curl which dropped in front of her face.

"I-I know about the gun," she whispered and Tom huffed.

You see, with no home of their own and where his mother lived was rife with Tan activity and his job wasn't exactly keeping him or his family under the radar, so for safety, he bought a gun, which he thought he kept hidden rather well but unbeknownst to him, Sybil found it when she sorted through the door for 'necessity' clothing and pack the rest in valises ready for their move...if they would ever be ready. She was too scared to pick it up; she just stared at it, scared pants passing through her lips.

"How?" he questioned, his expression turned slightly stormy at the seemingly invasion of privacy.

"I'm sorry, I just stumbled across it, but you should thank god it was me and not your mother," she sighed, pushing back his hair which had started to fall in front of his face.

He nodded and waited for her to continue.

"I know that you're waiting to use it when they come to the house, but what if you're not there? What I'm saying is that…I want you to teach me. How to use a gun that is," she explained. She watched as Tom frowned, taking in what she had asked him. She could see his mind ticking over the reasons not to do it. He knew that the Crawley's were a hunting family and he knew that Sybil had been on a few shoots so she wouldn't be completely naive but to teach her to shoot is different than teaching her to shoot people…because that's why she wants it.

"I don't know love," he stammered, sitting up straighter. "Let me think about it. It's a strangely harsh knowledge to have you know."

She sighed, she had a feeling that he would say no. She wanted to be angry with him but she couldn't; she knew that he was only trying to protect her but even he couldn't deny her a safety net.

"Very well," she mumbled, understanding but defeated.

"Its not that I don't want you to learn, in fact, in surprised I didn't think of it myself but its just…when you use it, for real, the one thing I can't teach you is how to deal with the repercussions of what you've done." He said, stroking her hair. He kissed her cheek and she rested her forehead on his shoulder. How would he know if she would react badly? Did he know her so well, even better than she knew herself?

"Wait," she sat up. "Have you…Have you shot someone?" she gasped.

He sighed and was about to answer when an insistent knock came at his door; a knock that he tried to ignore but didn't stop.

"Yes!" Tom shouted.

"Sir? There's a phone call for you. It's your mother. She says that if you don't answer this time she's going to come down here," Brigid called through the door.

It was true; the phone had been off the hook for about an hour; of course it was his mother.

"Thank you Brigid," he called back, picking up the phone when it rang again.

"Hello Ma,"

"_Thank God in his heaven you answer your phone! What the hell is going on?! Where's Sybil? I heard what happened. Is everything-"_

"Ma, everything's fine. Well, not fine completely with Lillian but Sybil's here with me. She's fine,"

Sybil could hear his mother down the phone; it was as if she were in the room it was that loud.

"_Thank goodness. I know, Harry brought Lily back here and she was in such a state. She was in shock and she was trembling and crying, oh Lord lad it was awful. Cillian rang, he said that he's taken Christopher back to his home because he wanted you two to not have to worry about him for a while."_

Tom nodded and looked at Sybil; she nodded, telling him that she knew and was just too caught up to tell him.

"Thanks Ma, don't worry about us, just take care of Lily. We'll be back soon, before dinner I should think. Look after yourself and lock the doors, Bye Ma,"

"_Bye lad, take care of your love. Harry said she was severely shaken."_

Tom hung up, rubbing his face with his hands before helping Sybil up off of the floor. It was time for them to get their son and go home to some sense of normality.

"I will think about…you know. Lets go home; I'll tell Hart that I'm going home early, he'll understand," he murmured gently before leaning down, their lips meeting for a soft, loving kiss.

"I love you," Sybil sighed as they left the building.

* * *

Walking through the door to Mrs Branson's house was a nightmare. She fussed and fawned over her daughter in law and grandson, checking them all over for any kind of blemish. She was glad to see that Sybil was over her shock and tears and was smiling again; Tom had told her of the state she was in when she came to him and Mrs Branson wasn't surprised at all; this was the first time that she had been 'attacked' and it was bound to take its toll on her.

"I have poured some tea for you all; I think you may need it dear,"

She nodded enthusiastically but she excused herself just so to feed Christopher, who had thankfully calmed down.

Tom took this time to visit his sister, whom he could still hear whimpering in her room.

"I thought id take some tea up to Lily,"

Ma sighed and shook her head, shyly wiping away a tear.

"She'll have none. No food, no nothing but you can go and see her. I think she'll want to see you," Rosaleen murmured to her son, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder. He sighed too, patting his mothers hand and pulled her in for a hug, one that she probably needed rather than wanted. He felt his mothers shoulder rack and she pulled away, reaching for her handkerchief and wiping her tears away.

"Sorry, lad. I just thought that they would leave us alone now that they have got us once. My poor baby," she wept. Poor Ma, Tom thought. Lily is the youngest, in her eyes, she is still the baby.

Tom nodded sadly and kissed his mothers head before retreating to see his little sister. He knocked on the door lightly before entering, his sister laid on her bed with a scarf on her head, covering her unjust baldness.

"Hey Lil," Tom greeted gently, walking over to sit beside her. "God, what have they done to you? Those bastards,"

Lily sat up then, the first movement that she had made in hours, and hugged her brother tightly.

"Don't do anything stupid," she whispered.

He chuckled before pulling back to look at her properly. Her face was drained and her complexion, which was usually rosy and vibrant, was pale and pasty. She looked as if she could throw up. Her eyes lost all brightness and just stared out into the ether rather than look at the world. Tom could tell that she had had nothing to eat or drink since returning home but he didn't want to push her; that would only make her worse.

"I wont don't you worry. I'm just thanking god that someone was there," he smiled, trying to keep the tears that pricked at his eyes and threatened to fall.

"How is Sybil? She was in tears. They kept shouting at her." Lily said her tone completely monotonous. There was just no expression; Tom deduced this to her still being in shock.

"She's alright now; she was in a state when Cillian brought her to me, crying and could barely talk. My poor girl," he sighed.

Lily stroked her brother's cheek before lying down again; she wanted to rest. Tom let his tears fall and stroked the silky scarf which wrapped around her head.

"I'm so sorry," Tom cried, his voice breaking from the tears. "God I'm so sorry,"

"S'not your fault," she mumbled, her voice breaking too. "Will you stay? I don't feel much like talking to anyone else,"

Tom nodded but asked if he could bring in Sybil; he wanted to keep an eye on her too. Lily didn't mind, in fact she wanted to see her sister in law and console her and apologise, though she would never tell Tom.

Sybil brought up three cups of tea, though Lily didn't touch hers which didn't surprise Sybil; she just wanted to bring it up just in case.

"Sybil!" Lily exclaim weakly. "I'm so glad you're alright. I heard them shouting at you. I'm so sorry,"

Lily was in tears by the end and had reduced Sybil to tears too. Sybil couldn't quite understand why she was sorry but she didn't argue with her; Lily had had enough of a trying day, she didn't want to bother her with silly quarrels. They both stayed until she fell asleep, which wasn't long, about 2 hours later. When they emerged, they found all the lights off and Christopher fast asleep in his crib and Mrs Branson gone to bed. Tom pulled his wife into their room, helping her get ready for bed in any way he could.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, kneeling in front of her as she sat at the small vanity, her hair out and down and she in her night dress. She sighed, rubbing her face and relaxing slightly.

"I'm fine I think," she smiled. "Thank you. Thank you for being there today, when I needed you. I love you so much," She reached forward to hug him and kiss him soundly on his lips, a kiss which soon turned heated and made them soon forget what had happened during that day. Tom could feel the raw emotion in the kiss; the need for some kind of comfort and love. He stood, pulling her up with him and scooping her into his arms before laying her down on the bed.

In truth this had to have been the safest Sybil felt the whole day, bar from being in Toms office with him. She was beneath him, both his arms strongly encasing her and soft kisses trailed down her cheek from her lips. She decided then that she didn't want to sleep and neither did he; another strong kiss setting them both afire with not so much the heat and passion that would normally come but with love and security. Tom told her again of his love and, now with discarded clothing, pulled Sybil close and made love to her, hoping that once again she would feel safe.

* * *

**A/N: What did you think? I said that it wasn't a nice idea...**

**They used to cut women's hair off with rusty scissors - it usually left them bleeding as sometimes they pulled out the hair. **

**Sybil couldn't have been left alone forever and i think that she would panic and just break down as she wouldn't really know what to do and with her baby with her I think that maternal instincts would set in and she would just want to get away. **

**We'll hear from Downton again in the next chapter - i don't think that they would have overseas calls yet else why would they write to each other? makes no sense otherwise. **

**Anyway, please tell me what you think and sorry if this insulted/upset anyone**

**Cheerio!**

**GMJ17 xxxx **


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